E 356 
C53 H47 





Class 



£3£A 




Gopyri^ht^ — 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE FORT DEARBORN 
MASSACRE 




Monument commemorating, the Fort Dearborn Massacre 



THE 

FORT DEARBORN 
MASSACRE 



Written in 1814 by 
Lieutenant Linai T. Helm 

One of the survivors 



WITH LETTERS AND NARRATIVES OF 
CONTEMPORARY INTEREST 

Edited by 
Nelly Kinzie Gordon 



RAND McNALLY & COMPANY 

CHICAGO NEW YORK 



.C6 3H4-7 



Copyright, 1912, by 
Nelly Kinzie Gordon 



gd.A314318 



2 







, 






(Efricagn 

WHOSE MARVELOUS GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT 
I HAVE WATCHED WITH PRIDE AND UNFAILING 
INTEREST SINCE THE YEAR 1 835 

% xiviitutt this brink 



THE CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 5 

Judge Woodward's Letter to Colonel Proctor 9 

Lieutenant Helm's Letter to Judge Woodward 1 3 

Lieutenant Helm's Narrative 15 

The Massacre at Chicago 27 

John Kinzie 85 

The Capture by the Indians of Little Eleanor 

Lytle 109 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS 

Monument commemorating the Fort 

Dearborn Massacre .... Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Old Fort Dearborn IS 

The old Kinzie house 85 

Cornplanter, a Seneca chief 109 



INTRODUCTION 

The narrative of Lieutenant Linai T. Helm, one 
of the two officers who survived the Chicago 
Massacre, mysteriously disappeared nearly one hun- 
dred years ago. This manuscript has lately been 
found and is now in the possession of the Michigan 
Pioneer and Historical Society, by whose kind per- 
mission it is here presented to the public, together with 
letters explaining its loss and its recovery. It is the 
earliest extant account given by a participator in the 
fearful tragedy of August 15, 1812. It was written by 
Lieutenant Helm in 1814, at the request of Judge 
Augustus B. Woodward, of Detroit, and was accom- 
panied by a letter asking Judge Woodward's opinion 
as to whether the strictures made in the narrative 
upon the conduct of Captain Heald would result in 
Helm's being court-martialed for disrespect to his 
commanding officer. 

Judge Woodward evidently advised Lieutenant 
Helm not to take the risk, for the manuscript was 
found many years later among the Judge's papers. 
That Lieutenant Helm was a soldier rather than a 
scholar is evidenced by the faulty construction of his 
narrative. Its literary imperfections, however, in no 
way detract from its value as a truthful account of the 
events he describes. 



6 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

In the records of the Michigan Pioneer and 
Historical Society, volume 12, page 659, is a letter 
concerning the survivors of the Chicago Massacre, 
written October, 1812, to Colonel Proctor by Judge 
Woodward, in which he says: 

"First, there is one officer, a lieutenant of the name 
of Linai T. Helm, with whom I had the happiness 
of a personal acquaintance. His father is a gentle- 
man, originally of Virginia, and of the first society 
of the city, who has since settled in the State of 
New York. He is an officer of great rank, and un- 
blemished character. The lady of this gentleman, a 
young and amiable victim of misfortune, was sep- 
arated from her husband. She was delivered 
up to her father-in-law, who was present. Mr. 
Helm was transported into the Indian country a 
hundred miles from the scene of action, and has not 
since been heard of at this place." 

She was captured during the fight and delivered 
to her stepfather, Mr. John Kinzie. Her own 
account is given in the extract from "Waubun." 

Lieutenant Helm's feeling against Captain Heald 
was due to the latter's refusal to take any advice from 
those who thoroughly understood the Indians with 
whom they had to deal, and his failure to consult 
any of his junior officers as to what course might be 
pursued to save the garrison. 

Kirkland, in his "Story of Chicago," chapter 8, 
page 66, says: "Captain Heald's conduct seems like 
that of a brave fool." Captain Heald was by no 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE J 

means a fool, but he was afraid to take any responsi- 
bility. He considered a soldier's first duty obedi- 
ence to orders. If in carrying out the orders he 
had received from General Hull he sacrificed his 
command, it would not be his fault, but Hull's; 
whereas, if he disobeyed instructions and remained 
in the fort awaiting reinforcements, any disastrous 
results would be visited upon him alone. He was 
willing, however, to accept John Kinzie's offer to 
provide a forged order, purporting to come from 
General Hull, authorizing the destruction of all 
arms, ammunition, and liquor before evacuating the 
fort, instead of giving them to the savages. 

Lieutenant Helm was promoted to a captaincy, 
but as his wound continued very troublesome he 
resigned from the army soon afterward, and retired 
to private life. 

The experiences of Mrs. Helm and of her mother, 
Mrs. John Kinzie, were related by them personally 
to Mrs. Juliette A. Kinzie, the author of "Waubun." 

The little captive stolen by the Senecas and 
adopted into the tribe by their famous chief, "The 
Corn Planter," was Eleanor Lytle. She afterwards 
was rescued and became the wife of John Kinzie. To 
her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Juliette A. Kinzie, she 
told the story of her captivity among the Senecas, 
and her experiences during the Chicago Massacre. 

It seems proper in giving Lieutenant Helm's ac- 
count of Fort Dearborn Massacre to preface it with 
a letter written by Judge Augustus B. Woodward 



8 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

of Detroit, of which two copies exist: one of the 
original draft, and one of the letter sent. They 
differ only in some unimportant details. 

Detroit was surrendered the day before the Chi- 
cago Massacre took place. As soon as information 
of the tragedy reached Detroit, Judge Woodward 
appealed to Colonel Proctor in behalf of the prison- 
ers and possible survivors of the Massacre at Fort 
Dearborn. 

The information given by Judge Woodward in 
this letter to Colonel Proctor probably came from 
William Griffith, a survivor who had reached Detroit. 
It could not have come from Lieutenant Helm, who 
had been sent as a prisoner to Peoria, Illinois, and did 
not reach St. Louis until October 14. 

Nelly Kinzie Gordon. 



JUDGE WOODWARD'S LETTER TO 
COLONEL PROCTOR 

'Territory of Michigan," 
October 8th, 1812. 
Sir: 

It is already known to you that on Saturday the 
fifteenth day of August last, an order having been 
given to evacuate Fort Dearborn an attack was made 
by the savages of the vicinity on the troops and 
persons appertaining to that garrison on their march, 
at the distance of about three miles from the Fort, 
and the greater part of the number barbarously and 
inhumanly massacred. 

Three of the survivors of that unhappy and terri- 
ble disaster having since reached this country, I have 
employed some pains to collect the number and names 
of those who were not immediately slain and to 
ascertain whether any hopes might yet be entertained 
of saving the remainder. 

It is on this subject that I wish to interest your 
feelings and to solicit the benefit of your interposi- 
tion ; convinced that you estimate humanity among 
the brightest virtues of the soldier. 

I find, sir, that the party consisted of ninety-three 
persons. Of these the military, including officers, 
non-commissioned officers and privates, amounted to 
fifty-four — the citizens, not acting in a military 
capacity, consisted of twelve. The number of 
women was nine, and that of the children eighteen. 

9 



10 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

The whole of the citizens were slaughtered, two 
women and twelve children. 

Of the military, twenty-six were killed at the time 
of the attack, and accounts have arrived of at least 
five of the surviving prisoners having been put to 
death in the course of the same night. 

There will remain then twenty-three of the mili- 
tary, seven women and six children, whose fate, with 
the exception of the three who have come in, and of 
two others who are known to be in safety at St. 
Joseph's, remains to be yet ascertained. 

Of these, amounting in all to thirty-one persons, I 
will furnish you with the names of all that I have 
been able to identify. 

First: there is one officer, a lieutenant, of the name 
of Linai T. Helm, with whom I have had the honor 
of a personal acquaintance. He is an officer of great 
merit, and of the most unblemished character. His 
father is a gentleman originally of Virginia, and of the 
first respectability, who has since settled in the State 
of New York. The lady of this gentleman, a young 
and amiable victim of misfortune, was separated from 
her husband during the fight. She is understood to 
be now at St. Joseph's. Mr. Helm was conveyed a 
hundred miles into the Indian country, and no 
accounts of his fate have yet reached this quarter. 

Second: of the six non-commissioned officers, four 
survived the action: John Crozier, a sergeant; Daniel 
Dougherty, a corporal; one other corporal by the 
name of Bowen, and William Griffin (Griffith), 
sergeant, now here. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE II 

Third: of the privates it is said that five, and it is 
not known how many more, were put to death in 
the night after the action. Of those who are said to 
have thus suffered, I have been able to collect only 
the names of two; Richard Garner and James Latta. 
Mr. Burns, a citizen, severely wounded, was killed 
by an Indian woman, in the daytime, about an hour 
after the action. Micajah Dennison and John Fury 
were so badly wounded in the action that little hope 
was indulged of their recovery. 

There will thus remain twenty to be accounted 
for, of whom I can only give the following names: 
Dyson Dyer, William Nelson Hunt, Duncan Mc- 
Carty, Augustus Mott, John Smith, John Smith, his 
son, a fifer, James Van Horn. 

Four: of the five women whose fate remains to 
be ascertained, I am enabled to give the names of 
them all. They were Mrs. Burns, wife to the citizen 
before mentioned as killed after the attack; Mrs. 
Holt, Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Needs, and Mrs. Simmons. 
Among these women six children saved out of the 
whole number, which was eighteen; part of them 
belonging to the surviving mothers, and part to those 
who were slain. 

As to the means of preserving these unhappy sur- 
vivors from the distressing calamities which environ 
them, if they have preserved their lives, and which 
the rigors of the approaching season cannot fail to 
heighten, I would beg leave to suggest the following: 

First: to send a special messenger to that quarter, 



12 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

overland, and with such safeguard of Indians or 
others, as can be procured, charged with collecting 
the prisoners who may yet survive, and accounts of 
those who may have ultimately suffered, and sup- 
plied with the means of conveying them either to 
Detroit or Michillimackinac. 

Second: to communicate to Captain Roberts, who 
now commands at Michillimackinac, the circum- 
stances of the same in full, and to request his co-oper- 
ation in effecting the humane object of their ultimate 
preservation. 

I am not authorized by my Government to make 
the assurance, but I shall not doubt their cheerfully 
defraying such expense of ransom, or conveyance, as 
circumstances will justify; and private funds are also 
ready to be applied to the same purpose. I do not 
less doubt your willing and zealous assistance, and 
with a confident hope of it, permit me, sir, to assure 
you of the high respect with which I have the honor 
to be 

Your obedient servant, 

A. B. Woodward. 

To Col. Henry Proctor. 



LIEUTENANT HELM'S LETTER TO 
JUDGE WOODWARD 

Flemington, New Jersey, 

6th June, 1814. 

Dear Sir:— 

I hope you will excuse the length of time I have 
taken to communicate the history of the unfortunate 
massacre of Chicago. It is now nearly finished, and in 
two weeks you may expect it. As the history cannot 
possibly be written with truth without eternally dis- 
gracing Major Heald, I wish you could find out 
whether I shall be cashiered or censured for bringing 
to light the conduct of so great a man as many think 
him. You know I am the only officer that has 
escaped to tell the news. Some of the men have got 
off, but where they are I know not; they would be 
able to testify to some of the principal facts. I have 
waited a long time expecting a court of inquiry on 
his conduct but see plainly it is to be overlooked. I 
am resolved now to do myself justice even if I have 
to leave the service to publish the history. I shall be 
happy to hear from you immediately on the receipt 

of this. 

I have the honor to be sir, 

with great respect, 

Your obedient servant, 

L. T. Helm. 

13 



14 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Augustus B. Woodward, Esqr. 

Washington City 

(Addressed:) Flemington, Jan. 6th. 

Augustus B. Woodward, Esq. 
Milton, Va. 

(Endorsed:) Helm, Mr. Linah T. 
letter from 
Dated Flemington, 
New Jersey, June 6th, 1814. 
Received at Washington. 
June 14th, 1814. 

R. June 14th, 1814. 



LIEUTENANT HELM'S NARRATIVE 

Some time in April, about the 7th-io, 
a party of Winnebagoes came to Chicago 
and murdered 2 men. This gave sufficient 
ground to suppose the Indians hostile, as 
they have left every sign by scalping them 
and leaving a weapon, say a war mallet, as 
a token of their returning in June. Mr. 
Kinzie sent a letter from the Interior of the 
Indian Country to inform Capt. Heald that 
the Indians were hostile inclined and only 
waiting the Declaration of War to com- 
mence open hostilities. This they told 
Kinzie in confidence on the 10th of July. 
Capt. Heald got the information of War 
being declared, and on the 8th of August 
got Gen. Hull's order to evacuate the Post of 
Fort Dearborn by the route of Detroit, or 
Fort Wayne, if practicable. This letter 
was brought by a Potowautemie Chief 
Winnemeg, and he informed Capt. Heald, 
through Kenzie, to evacuate immediately 
the next day, if possible, as the Indians were 
hostile and that the troops should change 

15 



16 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

the usual routes to go to Fort Wayne. On 
the 1 2th August, Capt. William Wells 
arrived from Fort Wayne with 27 Miamis, 
and after a council being held by him with 
the tribes there assembled to amount of 500 
warriors 179 women and children. He 
after council declared them hostile and that 
his opinion was that they would interrupt 
us on our route. Capt. Wells enquired 
into the State of the arms, ammunition and 
provisions. We had 200 stand of arms, 
four pieces of artillery, 6,000 lbs. of powder 
and a sufficient quantity of shot lead, etc. 
3 months provisions taken in Indian corn 
and all this on the 12th of August, having 
prior to this expended 3 months provisions 
at least in the interval between the 7th and 
1 2th of August, exclusive of this we had at 
our command 200 head of horned cattle 
and 27 barrels of salt. After this survey, 
Wells demanded of Capt. Heald if he in- 
tended to evacuate. His answer was he 
would. Kenzie then, with Lt. Helm, 
called on Wells and requested him to call 
on Capt. Heald and cause the ammunition 
and arms to be destroyed, but Capt. Wells 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IJ 

insisted on Kenzie and Helm to join with 
him. This being done, Capt. Heald hes- 
itated and observed that it was not 
sound policy to tell a lie to an Indian; that 
he had received a positive order from Gen. 
Hull to deliver up to those Indians all the 
public property of whatsoever nature 
particularly to those Indians that would 
take in the Troops and that he could not 
alter it, and that it might irritate the 
Indians and be the means of the destruction 
of his men. Kenzie volunteered to take 
the responsibility on himself, provided 
Capt. Heald would consider the method he 
would point out a safe one, he agreed. 
Kenzie wrote an order as if from Genl. 
Hull, and gave it into Capt. Heald. It 
was supposed to answer and accordingly 
was carried into effect. The ammunition 
and muskets were all destroyed the night of 
the 13th. The 15th, we evacuated the 
Garrison, and about one and half mile 
from the Garrison we were informed by 
Capt. Wells that we were surrounded and 
the attack by the Indians began about 10 
of the clock morning. The men in a few 



l8 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

minutes were, with the exception of 10, 
all killed and wounded. The Ensign and 
Surgeons Mate were both killed. The 
Capt. and myself both badly wounded 
during the battle. I fired my piece at an 
Indian and felt confident I killed him or 
wounded him badly. I immediately called 
to the men to follow me in the pirara, or we 
would be shot down before we could load our 
guns. We had proceeded under a heavy fire 
about an hundred and five paces when I 
made a wheel to the left to observe the 
motion of the Indians and avoid being shot 
in the back, which I had so far miraculously 
escaped. Just as I wheeled I received a ball 
through my coat pocket, which struck the 
barrel of my gun and fell in the lining of 
my coat. In a few seconds, I received a 
ball in my right foot, which lamed me con- 
siderably. The Indians happened imme- 
diately to stop firing and never more 
renewed it. I immediately ordered the 
men that were able to load their guns and 
commenced loading for them that were not 
able. I now discovered Capt. Heald for 
the first time to my knowledge during the 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IQ. 

battle. He was coming from towards the 
Indians and to my great surprise they 
never offered to fire on him. He came up 
and ordered the men to form; that his 
intentions were to charge the body of 
Indians that were on the bank of the Lake 
where we had just retreated from. They 
appeared to be about 300 strong. We were 
27, including all the wounded. He ad- 
vanced about 5 steps and not at all to my 
surprise was the first that halted. Some of 
the men fell back instead of advancing. 
We then gained the only high piece of 
ground there was near. We now had a 
little time to reflect and saw death in every 
direction. At this time an interpreter from 
the Indians advanced towards us and called 
for the Captain, who immediately went to 
meet him (the interpreter was a half Indian 
and had lived a long time within a few 
yards of the fort and bound to Mr. Kinzie; 
he was always very friendly with us all). 
A chief by the name of Blackbird advanced 
to the interpreter and met the Captain, 
who after a few words conversation de- 
livered him his sword, and in a few minutes 



20 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

returned to us and informed me he had 
offered ioo dollars for every man that was 
then living. He said they were then de- 
ciding on what to do. They, however, in a 
few minutes, called him again and talked 
with him some time, when he returned and 
informed me they had agreed if I and the 
men would surrender by laying down our 
arms they would lay down theirs, meet us 
half way, shake us by the hand as friends 
and take us back to the fort. I asked him 
if he knew what they intended doing with 
us then. He said they did not inform him. 
He asked me if I would surrender. The 
men were at this time crowding to my back 
and began to beg me not to surrender. I 
told them not to be uneasy for I had al- 
ready done my best for them and was 
determined not to surrender unless I saw 
better prospects of us all being saved and 
then not without they were willing. The 
Captain asked me the second time what I 
would do, without an answer. I discov- 
ered the interpreter at this time running 
from the Indians towards us, and when he 
came in about 20 steps the Captain put the 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 21 

question the third time. The Interpreter 
called out, "Lieut, don't surrender for if 
you do they will kill you all, for there has 
been no general council held with them yet. 
You must wait, and I will go back and hold 
a general council with them and return and 
let you know what they will do." I told 
him to go, for I had no idea of surrender. 
He went and collected all the Indians and 
talked for some time, when he returned and 
told me the Indians said if I would sur- 
render as before described they would not 
kill any, and said it was his opinion they 
would do as they said, for they had already 
saved Mr. Kinzie and some of the women 
and children. This enlivened me and the 
men, for we well knew Mr. Kinzie stood 
higher than any man in that country 
among the Indians, and he might be the 
means of saving us from utter destruction, 
which afterwards proved to be the case. 
We then surrendered, and after the Indians 
had fired off our guns they put the Captain 
and myself and some of the wounded men 
on horses and marched us to the bank of 
the lake, where the battle first commenced. 



22 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

When we arrived at the bank and looked 
down on the sand beach I was struck with 
horror at the sight of men, women and 
children lying naked with principally all 
their heads off, and in passing over the 
bodies I was confident I saw my wife with 
her head off about two feet from her 
shoulders. Tears for the first time rushed 
in my eyes, but I consoled myself with a 
firm belief that I should soon follow her. 
I now began to repent that I had ever sur- 
rendered, but it was too late to recall, and 
we had only to look up to Him who had 
first caused our existence. When we had 
arrived in half a mile of the Fort they halted 
us, made the men sit down, form a ring 
around them, began to take off their hats 
and strip the Captain. They attempted 
to strip me, but were prevented by a Chief 
who stuck close to me. I made signs to 
him that I wanted to drink, for the weather 
was very warm. He led me off towards the 
Fort and, to my great astonishment, saw 
my wife sitting among some squaws crying. 
Our feelings can be better judged than 
expressed. They brought some water and 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 23 

directed her to wash and dress my wound, 
which she did, and bound it up with her 
pocket handkerchief. They then brought 
up some of the men and tommyhawked one 
of them before us. They now took Mrs. 
Helm across the river (for we were nearly on 
its banks) to Mr. Kinzie's. We met again 
at my fathers in the State of New York, she 
having arrived seven days before me after 
being separated seven months and one week. 
She was taken in the direction of Detroit and 
I was taken down to Illinois River and was 
sold to Mr. Thomas Forsyth, half brother 
of Mr. Kinzie's, who, a short time after, 
effected my escape. This gentleman was 
the means of saving many lives on the 
warring (?) frontier. I was taken on the 
15th of August and arrived safe among 
the Americans at St. Louis on the 14th 
of October. 

Capt. Heald, through Kenzie, sending 
his two negroes, got put on board an Indian 
boat going to St. Joseph, and from that 
place got to Makenac by Lake Michigan 
in a birch canoe. 

The night of the 14th, the Interpreter 



24 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

and a Chief (Black Partridge) waited on 
Capt. Heald. The Indian gave up his 
medal and told Heald to beware of the next 
day, that the Indians would destroy him 
and his men. This Heald never com- 
municated to one of his officers. There 
was but Capt. Wells that was acquainted 
with it. You will observe, sir, that I did, 
with Kenzie, protest against destroying the 
arms, ammunition and provisions until that 
Heald told me positively that he would 
evacuate at all hazards. 

15th of August, we evacuated the Fort. 
The number of soldiers was 52 privates 
and musicians (2), 4 officers and physicians, 
14 citizens, 18 children and 9 women, the 
baggage being in front with the citizens, 
women and children and on the margin of 
the lake, we having advanced to gain the 
Prairie. I could not see the massacre, but 
Kinzie, with Doctor Van Vorees, being 
ordered by Capt. Heald to take charge of 
the women and children, remained on the 
beach, and Kinzie since told me he was an 
eye witness to the horrid scene. The 
Indians came down on the baggage waggons 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 



25 



for plunder. They butchered every male 
citizen but Kinzie, two women and 12 
children in the most inhuman manner pos- 
sible, opened them, cutting off their heads 
and taken out their hearts; several of the 
women were wounded but not dangerously. 

LIST OF GARRISON 



Nathan Heaid 
Lina T. Hehn 
Nathan Edson 
Elias Mills 
Thos. Point Dexter 
August Mort 
James Latta 
Michael Lynch 
John Sullinfield 
John Smith, Senr. 
John Smith, Junr. 
Nathan Hunt 
Richard Garner 
Paul Greene 
James V — tworth (?) 
John Griffiths 

Joseph Bowen 
John Ferry (or Fury) 
John Crozier 
John Needs 
Daniel Daugherty 



1 Released. 
2 

3 

4 

5 

6 Died natural. 

7 Killed. 

8 Killed. 

9 Killed. 
10 Released. 
11 

12 Deserted. 

13 Killed. 

14 

IS 

16 ( Supposed to be a 

< Frenchman and 

17 ( released. 

18 

19 Deserted. 

20 

21 



26 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 



Dyson Dyer 22 Killed. 

John Andrews 23 Killed. 

James Stone (or Starr or 

Storr) 24 Killed. 

Joseph Nolis (or Notts) 25 

James Corbin 26 

Fielding Corbin 27 

Citizens: 
Jos. Burns 28 Mortally wounded; 

since killed. 

(Names of women on reverse page) 

Women taken prisoners : 
Mrs. Heald Released. 

Mrs. Helm 
Mrs. Holt 
Mrs. Burns 

Mrs. Leigh f Prisoners. 

Mrs. Simmons 
Mrs. Needs 

Killed in action: 
Mrs. Corbin. 
Mrs. Heald's Negro woman. 

Children yet in captivity: 
Mrs. Leigh's 2, one since dead N D. 
Mrs. Burns' 2. 
Mrs. Simmons' 1. 

13 children killed during the action. 
11 citizens including Captain Wells. 
John Kinzie taken, but not considered as a prisoner 

of war. 
54 Rank and file left the Garrison. 



THE MASSACRE AT CHICAGO 1 

It was the evening of April 7, 1812. 
The children were dancing before the fire to 
the music of their father's violin. The 
tea table was spread, and they were await- 
ing the return of their mother, who had gone 
to visit a sick neighbor about a quarter of 
a mile up the river. 

Suddenly their sports were interrupted. 
The door was thrown open, and Mrs. 
Kinzie rushed in, pale with terror, and 
scarcely able to speak. "The Indians! the 
Indians!" she gasped. 

"The Indians? What? Where?" they 
all demanded in alarm. 

" Up at Lee's Place, killing and scalping! " 

With difficulty Mrs. Kinzie composed 
herself sufficiently to say that, while she 
was at Burns', a man and a boy had been 
seen running down with all speed on the 

1 This narrative related by two of the survivors, Mrs. John 
Kinzie and Mrs. Helm, to Mrs. Juliette A. Kinzie, is taken 
from "Waubun." It was first published in pamphlet form in 
1836; was transferred, with little variation, to Brown's "His- 
tory of Illinois," and to a work called "Western Annals." 
Major Richardson likewise made it the basis of his two tales, 
"Hardscrabble," and "Wau-nan-gee." 

27 



28 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

opposite side of the river. They had called 
across to the Burns family to save them- 
selves, for the Indians were at Lee's Place, 
from which the two had just made their 
escape. Having given this terrifying news, 
they had made all speed for the fort, which 
was on the same side of the river. 

All was now consternation and dismay 
in the Kinzie household. The family were 
hurried into two old pirogues that lay moored 
near the house, and paddled with all possible 
haste across the river to take refuge in the 
fort. 

All that the man and boy who had made 
their escape were able to tell was soon 
known; but, in order to render their story 
more intelligible, it is necessary to describe 
the situation. 

Lee's Place, since known as Hardscrabble, 
was a farm intersected by the Chicago River, 
about four miles from its mouth. The farm- 
house stood on the west bank of the south 
branch of this river. On the north side of 
the main stream, but near its junction with 
Lake Michigan, stood the dwelling house 
and trading establishment of Mr. Kinzie. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 20. 

The fort was situated on the southern 
bank, directly opposite this mansion, the 
river and a few rods of sloping green turf 
on either side being all that intervened be- 
tween them. 

The fort was differently constructed from 
the one erected on the same site in 1816. It 
had two blockhouses on the southern side, 
and on the northern a sally port, or subter- 
ranean passage from the parade ground to 
the river. This was designed to facilitate 
escape in case of an emergency or as a 
means of supplying the garrison with water 
during a siege. 

In the fort at this period were three offi- 
cers, Captain Heald, who was in command, 
Lieutenant Helm, the son-in-law of Mr. 
Kinzie, and Ensign Ronan — the last two 
very young men — and the surgeon, Dr. 
Van Voorhees. 

The garrison numbered about seventy- 
five men, very few of whom were effective. 

A constant and friendly intercourse had 
been maintained between these troops and 
the Indians. It is true that the principal 
men of the Potowatomi nation, like those 



30 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

of most other tribes, went yearly to Fort 
Maiden, in Canada, to receive the large 
number of presents with which the British 
Government, for many years, had been in 
the habit of purchasing their alliance; and 
it was well known that many of the Pot- 
owatomi, as well as Winnebago, had 
been engaged with the Ottawa and Shawnee 
at the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding 
autumn; yet, as the principal chiefs of all 
the bands in the neighborhood appeared to 
be on the most amicable terms with the 
Americans, no interruption of their harmony 
was at any time anticipated. 

After August 15, however, many cir- 
cumstances were recalled that might have 
opened the eyes of the whites had they not 
been blinded by a false security. One 
incident in particular may be mentioned. 

In the spring preceding the destruction of 
the fort, two Indians of the Calumet band 
came to the fort on a visit to the command- 
ing officer. As they passed through the 
quarters, they saw Mrs. Heald and Mrs. 
Helm playing at battledoor. 

Turning to the interpreter, one of them, 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 31 

Nau-non-gee, remarked, "The white chiefs' 
wives are amusing themselves very much; 
it will not be long before they are hoeing in 
our cornfields!" 

At the time this was considered an idle 
threat, or, at most, an ebullition of jealous 
feeling at the contrast between the situation 
of their own women and that of the "white 
chiefs' wives." Some months after, how 
bitterly was it remembered! 

The farm at Lee's Place was occupied by 
a Mr. White and three persons employed 
by him. 

In the afternoon of the day on which our 
narrative commences, a party of ten or 
twelve Indians, dressed and painted, ar- 
rived at the house. According to the cus- 
tom among savages, they entered and 
seated themselves without ceremony. 

Something in their appearance and man- 
ner excited the suspicion of one of the 
household, a Frenchman, who remarked, "I 
do not like the looks of these Indians — 
they are none of our folks. I know by 
their dress and paint that they are not 
Potowatomi. " 



32 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Another of the men, a discharged soldier, 
then said to a boy who was present, " If that 
is the case, we'd better get away from them 
if we can. Say nothing; but do as you see 
me do. " 

There were two canoes tied near the bank, 
and the soldier walked leisurely towards 
them. Some of the Indians inquired where 
he was going. He pointed to the cattle 
standing among the haystacks on the 
opposite bank, making signs that they must 
go and fodder them, and that they would 
then return and get their supper. 

As the afternoon was far advanced, this 
explanation was accepted without question. 

The soldier got into one canoe, and the 
boy into the other. The stream was nar- 
row, and they were soon across. Having 
gained the opposite side, they pulled some 
hay for the cattle, made a show of herding 
them, and when they had gradually made 
a circuit, so that their movements were 
concealed by the haystacks, took to the 
woods, close at hand, and then started for 
the fort. 

They had run about a quarter of a mile 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 33 

when they heard two guns discharged in 
succession. These guns they supposed to 
have been leveled at the companions they 
had left. 

They ran without stopping until they 
arrived opposite Burns', 1 where, as before 
related, they called across to warn the 
family of their danger, and then hastened 
on to the fort. 

It now occurred to those who had secured 
their own safety that the Burns family was 
still exposed to imminent peril. The ques- 
tion was, who would hazard his life to bring 
them to a place of security? The gallant 
young officer, Ensign Ronan, with a party 
of five or six soldiers, volunteered to go to 
their rescue. 

They ascended the river in a scow, took 
the mother, with her infant, scarcely a day 
old, upon her bed to the boat, and carefully 
conveyed her with the other members of 
the family to the fort. 

The same afternoon a party of soldiers, 

'Burns' house stood near the spot where the Agency 
Building, or "Cobweb Castle," was afterwards erected, at 
the foot of North State Street. 
3 



34 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

consisting of a corporal and six men, had 
obtained leave to go fishing up the river. 
They had not returned when the fugitives 
from Lee's Place arrived at the fort. It 
was now night and, fearing they might 
encounter the Indians, the commanding 
officer ordered a cannon fired, warning them 
of their danger. 

It will be remembered that the unsettled 
state of the country after the battle of 
Tippecanoe, the preceding November, had 
rendered every man vigilant, and the slight- 
est alarm was an admonition to "beware 
of the Indians. " 

At the time the cannon was fired the fish- 
ing party were about two miles above Lee's 
Place. Hearing the signal, they put out 
their torches and dropped down the river 
towards the garrison, as silently as possible. 

When they reached Lee's Place, it was 
proposed to stop and warn the inmates to 
be on their guard, as the signal from the 
fort indicated some kind of danger. All 
was still as death around the house. The 
soldiers groped their way along, and as the 
corporal jumped over the small inclosure he 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 35 

placed his hand upon the dead body of a 
man. He soon ascertained that the head 
was without a scalp, and otherwise muti- 
lated. The faithful dog of the murdered 
man stood guarding the lifeless remains of 
his master. 

The tale was told. The men retreated to 
their canoes, and reached the fort unmo- 
lested about eleven o'clock at night. 

The next morning a party of citizens and 
soldiers volunteered to go to Lee's Place 
to learn further the fate of its occupants. 
The body of Mr. White was found pierced 
by two balls, with eleven stabs in the breast. 
The Frenchman also lay dead, his dog still 
beside him. The bodies were brought to 
the fort and buried in its immediate vicinity. 

Later it was learned from traders out in 
the Indian country that the perpetrators 
of the deed were a party of Winnebago 
who had come into the neighborhood to 
"take some white scalps." Their plan had 
been to proceed down the river from Lee's 
Place and kill every white man outside the 
walls of the fort. However, hearing the 
report of the cannon, and not knowing 



36 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

what it portended, they thought it best to 
retreat to their homes on Rock River. 

The settlers outside the fort, a few dis- 
charged soldiers and some families of half- 
breeds, now intrenched themselves in the 
Agency House. This building stood west 
of the fort, between the pickets and the 
river, and distant about twenty rods from 
the former. 

It was an old-fashioned log house, with 
a hall running through the center, and one 
large room on each side. Piazzas extended 
the whole length of the building, in front 
and rear. These were now planked up, 
for greater security; portholes were cut, 
and sentinels posted at night. 

As the enemy were believed to be still 
lurking in the neighborhood, or, emboldened 
by former success, were likely to return at 
any moment, an order was issued prohibit- 
ing any soldier or citizen from leaving the 
vicinity of the garrison without a guard. 

One night a sergeant and a private, who 
were out on patrol, came suddenly upon a 
party of Indians in the pasture adjoining the 
esplanade. The sergeant fired his piece, 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 37 

and both retreated towards the fort. Before 
they could reach it, an Indian threw his 
tomahawk, which missed the sergeant and 
struck a wagon standing near. The sen- 
tinel from the blockhouse immediately 
fired while the men got safely in. The 
next morning traces of blood were found for 
a considerable distance into the prairie, and 
from this and the appearance of the long 
grass, where it was evident a body had lain, 
it was certain some execution had been done. 

On another occasion Indians entered the 
esplanade to steal horses. Not finding any 
in the stable, as they had expected to, they 
relieved their disappointment by stabbing 
all the sheep in the stable and then letting 
them loose. The poor animals flocked 
towards the fort. This gave the alarm. 
The garrison was aroused, and parties were 
sent out; but the marauders escaped un- 
molested. The inmates of the fort ex- 
perienced no further alarm for many weeks. 

On the afternoon of August 7, Winnemeg, 
or Catfish, a Potowatomi chief, arrived at 
the post, bringing dispatches from General 
Hull. These announced that war had been 



38 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

declared between the United States and 
Great Britain, and that General Hull, at 
the head of the Northwestern army, had 
arrived at Detroit; also, that the Island of 
Mackinac had fallen into the hands of the 
British. 

The orders to Captain Heald were to 
"evacuate the fort, if practicable, and, in 
that event, to distribute all the United 
States property contained in the fort, and 
in the United States factory or agency, 
among the Indians in the neighborhood. ,: 

After having delivered his dispatches, 
Winnemeg requested a private interview 
with Mr. Kinzie, who had taken up his 
residence in the fort. He told Mr. Kinzie 
he was acquainted with the purport of 
the communications he had brought, and 
begged him to ascertain if it were the 
intention of Captain Heald to evacuate the 
post. He advised strongly against such a 
step, inasmuch as the garrison was well 
supplied with ammunition, and with pro- 
visions for six months. It would, therefore, 
be far better, he thought, to remain until 
reinforcements could be sent. If, however, 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 39 

Captain Heald should decide to leave the 
post, it should by all means be done im- 
mediately. The Potowatomi, through whose 
country they must pass, being ignorant of 
the object of Winnemeg's mission, a forced 
march might be made before the hostile 
Indians were prepared to interrupt them. 

Of this advice, so earnestly given, Cap- 
tain Heald was immediately informed. He 
replied that it was his intention to evacuate 
the post, but that, inasmuch as he had 
received orders to distribute the United 
States property, he should not feel justified 
in leaving until he had collected the Indians 
of the neighborhood and made an equitable 
division among them. 

Winnemeg then suggested the expedi- 
ency of marching out, and leaving all 
things standing; possibly while the Indians 
were engaged in the partition of the spoils 
the troops might effect their retreat un- 
molested. This advice, strongly seconded 
by Mr. Kinzie, did not meet the approbation 
of the commanding officer. 

The order to evacuate the post was read 
next morning upon parade. It is difficult 



40 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

to understand why, in such an emergency, 
Captain Heald omitted the usual form of 
holding a council of war with his officers. 
It can be accounted for only by the fact 
of a want of harmonious feeling between 
him and one of his junior officers, Ensign 
Ronan, a high-spirited and somewhat over- 
bearing, but brave and generous, young 
man. 

In the course of the day, no council having 
been called, the officers waited on Captain 
Heald, seeking information regarding the 
course he intended to pursue. When they 
learned his intentions, they remonstrated 
with him, on the following grounds: 

First, it was highly improbable that the 
command would be permitted to pass 
through the country in safety to Fort 
Wayne. For although it had been said 
that some of the chiefs had opposed an 
attack upon the fort, planned the preceding 
autumn, yet it was well known that they 
had been actuated in that matter by mo- 
tives of personal regard for one family, that 
of Mr. Kinzie, and not by any general 
friendly feeling towards the Americans; and 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 41 

that, in any event, it was hardly to be ex- 
pected that these few individuals would be 
able to control the whole tribe, who were 
thirsting for blood. 

In the next place, their march must 
necessarily be slow, as their movements 
must be accommodated to the helplessness 
of the women and children, of whom there 
were a number with the detachment. Of 
their small force some of the soldiers were 
superannuated, others invalid. 

Therefore, since the course to be pursued 
was left discretional, their unanimous advice 
was to remain where they were, and fortify 
themselves as strongly as possible. Succor 
from the other side of the peninsula might 
arrive before they could be attacked by the 
British from Mackinac; and even should 
help not come, it were far better to fall 
into the hands of the British than to become 
the victims of the savages. 

Captain Heald argued in reply that 
"a special order had been issued by the 
War Department that no post should be 
surrendered without battle having been 
given, and his force was totally inadequate 



42 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

to an engagement with the Indians; that 
he should unquestionably be censured for 
remaining when there appeared a prospect 
of a safe march through; and that, upon the 
whole, he deemed it expedient to assemble 
the Indians, distribute the property among 
them, and then ask them for an escort to 
Fort Wayne, with the promise of a con- 
siderable reward upon their safe arrival, 
adding that he had full confidence in the 
friendly professions of the Indians, from 
whom, as well as from the soldiers, the 
capture of Mackinac had been kept a pro- 
found secret." 

From this time the officers held them- 
selves aloof, and spoke but little upon the 
subject, though they considered Captain 
Heald's project little short of madness. 
The dissatisfaction among the soldiers 
increased hourly, until it reached a high 
pitch of insubordination. 

On one occasion, when conversing with 
Mr. Kinzie upon the parade, Captain Heald 
remarked, "I could not remain, even if I 
thought it best, for I have but a small store 
of provisions. " 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 43 

"Why, captain," said a soldier who 
stood near, forgetting all etiquette in the 
excitement of the moment, "you have 
cattle enough to last the troops six months. ' : 

"But," replied Captain Heald, "I have 
no salt to preserve it with. " 

"Then jerk it," said the man, "as the 
Indians do their venison." 

The Indians now became daily more 
unruly. Entering the fort in defiance of 
the sentinels, they made their way without 
ceremony into the officers' quarters. One 
day an Indian took up a rifle and fired it 
in the parlor of the commanding officer, as 
an expression of defiance. Some believed 
that this was intended among the young 
men as a signal for an attack. The old 
chiefs passed backwards and forwards 
among the assembled groups with the 
appearance of the most lively agitation, 
while the squaws rushed to and fro in 
great excitement, evidently prepared for 
some fearful scene. 

Any further manifestation of ill feeling 
was, however, suppressed for the time and, 
strange as it may seem, Captain Heald 



44 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

continued to entertain a conviction of having 
created so amicable a disposition among 
the Indians as to insure the safety of the 
command on their march to Fort Wayne. 

Thus passed the time until August 12. 
The feelings of the inmates of the fort during 
this time may be better imagined than 
described. Each morning that dawned 
seemed to bring them nearer to that most 
appalling fate — butchery by a savage foe; 
and at night they scarcely dared yield to 
slumber, lest they should be aroused by the 
war whoop and tomahawk. Gloom and 
mistrust prevailed, and the want of una- 
nimity among the officers prevented the 
consolation they might have found in mu- 
tual sympathy and encouragement. 

The Indians being assembled from the 
neighboring villages, a council was held 
with them on the afternoon of August 12. 
Captain Heald alone attended on the part 
of the military. He had requested his 
officers to accompany him, but they had 
declined. They had been secretly informed 
that the young chiefs intended to fall upon 
the officers and massacre them while 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 45 

in council, but they could not persuade 
Captain Heald of the truth of their infor- 
mation. They waited therefore only until, 
accompanied by Mr. Kinzie, he had left 
the garrison, when they took command of 
the blockhouses overlooking the esplanade 
on which the council was held, opened the 
portholes, and pointed the cannon so as to 
command the whole assembly. By this 
means, probably, the lives of the whites who 
were present in council were preserved. 

In council, the commanding officer in- 
formed the Indians that it was his intention 
to distribute among them, the next day, not 
only the goods lodged in the United States 
factory, but also the ammunition and pro- 
visions, with which the garrison was well 
supplied. He then requested the Poto- 
watomi to furnish him an escort to Fort 
Wayne, promising them, in addition to the 
presents they were now about to receive, 
a liberal reward on arriving there. With 
many professions of friendship and good 
will, the savages assented to all he pro- 
posed, and promised all he required. 

After the council, Mr. Kinzie, who well 



46 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

understood not only the Indian character 
but the present tone of feeling among them, 
had a long interview with Captain Heald, 
in hopes of opening his eyes to the real 
state of affairs. 

He reminded him that since the trouble 
with the Indians along the Wabash and 
in the vicinity, there had appeared to be 
a settled plan of hostilities towards the 
whites, in consequence of which it had been 
the policy of the Americans to withhold 
from the Indians whatever would enable 
them to carry on their warfare upon the 
defenseless inhabitants of the frontier. 

Mr. Kinzie also recalled to Captain 
Heald how, having left home for De- 
troit, the preceding autumn, on receiv- 
ing news at De Charme's 1 of the battle of 
Tippecanoe, he had immediately returned 
to Chicago, that he might dispatch orders to 
his traders to furnish no ammunition to the 
Indians. As a result, all the ammunition 
the traders had on hand was secreted, and 
those traders who had not already started 
for their wintering grounds took neither 
powder nor shot with them. 

'A trading-establishment — now Ypsilanti. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 47 

Captain Heald was struck with the inad- 
visability of furnishing the enemy (for 
such they must now consider their old 
neighbors) with arms against himself, and 
determined to destroy all the ammunition 
except what should be necessary for the 
use of his own troops. 

On August 13 the goods, consisting of 
blankets, broadcloths, calicoes, paints, and 
miscellaneous supplies were distributed, as 
stipulated. The same evening part of the 
ammunition and liquor was carried into 
the sally port, and there thrown into a well 
which had been dug to supply the garrison 
with water in case of emergency. The 
remainder was transported, as secretly as 
possible, through the northern gate; the 
heads of the barrels were knocked in, and 
the contents poured into the river. 

The same fate was shared by a large 
quantity of alcohol belonging to Mr. Kinzie, 
which had been deposited in a warehouse 
near his residence opposite the fort. 

The Indians suspected what was going 
on, and crept, serpent-like, as near the 
scene of action as possible; but a vigilant 



48 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

watch was kept up, and no one was suffered 
to approach but those engaged in the affair. 
All the muskets not necessary for the com- 
mand on the march were broken up and 
thrown into the well, together with bags of 
shot, flints, gunscrews; in short, everything 
relating to weapons of defense. 

Some relief to the general feeling of 
despondency was afforded by the arrival, 
on August 14, of Captain Wells 1 with 
fifteen friendly Miami. 

Of this brave man, who forms so con- 
spicuous a figure in our frontier annals, it 
is unnecessary here to say more than that 
he had resided from boyhood among the 
Indians, and hence possessed a perfect 
knowledge of their character and habits. 

At Fort Wayne he had heard of the order 
to evacuate the fort at Chicago, and, 
knowing the hostile determination of the 
Potowatomi, had made a rapid march 
across the country to prevent the exposure 

"Captain Wells, when a boy, was stolen by the Miami 
Indians from the family of Hon. Nathaniel Pope in Ken- 
tucky. Although recovered by them, he preferred to return 
and live among his new friends. He married a Miami 
woman, and became a chief of the nation. He was the 
father of Mrs. Judge Wolcott of Maumee, Ohio. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 49 

of his relative, Captain Heald, and his 
troops to certain destruction. 

But he came "all too late." When he 
reached the post he found that the am- 
munition had been destroyed, and the 
provisions given to the Indians. There 
was, therefore, no alternative, and every 
preparation was made for the march of 
the troops on the following morning. 

On the afternoon of the same day a 
second council was held with the Indians. 
They expressed great indignation at the 
destruction of the ammunition and liquor. 
Notwithstanding the precautions that had 
been taken to preserve secrecy, the noise of 
knocking in the heads of the barrels had 
betrayed the operations of the preceding 
night; indeed, so great was the quantity of 
liquor thrown into the river that next morn- 
ing the water was, as one expressed it, 
"strong grog." 

Murmurs and threats were everywhere 
heard among the savages. It was evident 
that the first moment of exposure would 
subject the troops to some manifestation of 
their disappointment and resentment. 



50 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Among the chiefs were several who, al- 
though they shared the general hostile 
feeling of their tribe towards the Americans, 
yet retained a personal regard for the troops 
at this post and for the few white citizens of 
the place. These chiefs exerted their ut- 
most influence to allay the revengeful feel- 
ings of the young men, and to avert 
their sanguinary designs, but without effect. 

On the evening succeeding the council 
Black Partridge, a conspicuous chief, en- 
tered the quarters of the commanding 
officer. 

"Father," said he, "I come to deliver up 
to you the medal I wear. It was given me 
by the Americans, and I have long worn it 
in token of our mutual friendship. But our 
young men are resolved to imbrue their 
hands in the blood of the whites. I cannot 
restrain them, and I will not wear a token 
of peace while I am compelled to act as 
an enemy." 

Had further evidence been wanting, this 
circumstance would have sufficiently justified 
the devoted band in their melancholy antici- 
pations. Nevertheless, they went steadily 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 5I 

on with the necessary preparations; and, 
amid the horrors of the situation there were 
not wanting gallant hearts who strove to 
encourage in their desponding companions 
the hopes of escape they themselves were 
far from indulging. 

Of the ammunition there had been re- 
served but twenty-five rounds, besides one 
box of cartridges, contained in the baggage 
wagons. This must, under any circum- 
stances of danger, have proved an in- 
adequate supply; but the prospect of a 
fatiguing march, in their present ineffective 
state, forbade the troops embarrassing them- 
selves with a larger quantity. 

The morning of August 15 arrived. 
Nine o'clock was the hour named for start- 
ing and all things were in readiness. 

Mr. Kinzie, having volunteered to ac- 
company the troops in their march, had 
intrusted his family to the care of some 
friendly Indians, who promised to convey 
them in a boat around the head of Lake 
Michigan to a point 1 on the St. Joseph 

1 The spot now called Bertrand, then known as Pare aux 
Vaches, from its having been a favorite "stamping-ground" 
of the buffalo which abounded in the country. 



52 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

River, there to be joined by the troops, 
should their march be permitted. 

Early in the morning Mr. Kinzie received 
a message from To-pee-nee-bee, a chief 
of the St. Joseph band, informing him that 
mischief was intended by the Potowatomi 
who had engaged to escort the detachment, 
and urging him to relinquish his plan of 
accompanying the troops by land, promising 
him that the boat containing his family 
should be permitted to pass in safety to 
St. Joseph. 

Mr. Kinzie declined this proposal, as he 
believed his presence might restrain the 
fury of the savages, so warmly were the 
greater number of them attached to him 
and his family. 

Seldom does one find a man who, like 
John Kinzie, refuses safety for himself in 
order to stand or fall with his countrymen, 
and who, as stern as any Spartan, bids 
farewell to his dear ones to go forward to 
almost certain destruction. 

The party in the boat consisted of Mrs. 
Kinzie and her four younger children, 
their nurse Josette, a clerk of Mr. Kinzie's, 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 53 

two servants, and the boatmen, besides 
the two Indians who were to act as their 
protectors. The boat started, but had 
scarcely reached the mouth of the river, 
which, it will be recalled, was here half a 
mile below the fort, when another mes- 
senger from To-pee-nee-bee arrived to de- 
tain it. There was no mistaking the 
meaning of this detention. 

In breathless anxiety sat the wife and 
mother. She was a woman of unusual en- 
ergy and strength of character, yet her heart 
died within her as she folded her arms about 
her helpless infants and gazed upon the 
march of her husband and eldest child to 
what seemed certain death. 

As the troops left the fort, the band 
struck up the Dead March. On they 
came, in military array, but with solemn 
mien, Captain Wells in the lead at the head 
of his little band of Miami. He had black- 
ened his face before leaving the garrison, 
in token of his impending fate. The troops 
took their route along the lake shore; but 
when they reached the point where the 
range of sand hills intervening between 



54 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

the prairie and the beach commenced, the 
escort of Potowatomi, in number about five 
hundred, took the level of the prairie, 
instead of continuing along the shore with 
the Americans and Miami. 

They had marched perhaps a mile and 
a half when Captain Wells, who had kept 
somewhat in advance with his Miami, came 
riding furiously back. 

"They are about to attack us," shouted 
he; "form instantly, and charge upon them." 

Scarcely were the words uttered, when a 
volley was showered from among the sand 
hills. The troops, brought hastily into 
line, charged up the bank. One man, a 
veteran of seventy winters, fell as they 
ascended. The remainder of the scene is 
best described in the words of an eyewitness 
and participator in the tragedy, Mrs. Helm, 1 
the wife of Captain (then Lieutenant) 
Helm, and stepdaughter of Mr. Kinzie. 

"After we had left the bank the firing 
became general. The Miami fled at the 

1 Mrs. Helm is represented by the female figure in the 
bronze group erected by George M. Pullman, at the foot of 
1 8th Street, to commemorate the massacre which took place 
at that spot. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 55 

outset. Their chief rode up to the Poto- 
watomi, and said: 'You have deceived us 
and the Americans. You have done a bad 
action, and (brandishing his tomahawk) I 
will be the first to head a party of Americans 
to return and punish your treachery.' So 
saying, he galloped after his companions, 
who were now scurrying across the prairies. 

''The troops behaved most gallantly. 
They were but a handful, but they seemed 
resolved to sell their lives as dearly as 
possible. Our horses pranced and bounded, 
and could hardly be restrained as the balls 
whistled among them. I drew off a little, 
and gazed upon my husband and father, 
who were yet unharmed. I felt that my 
hour was come, and endeavored to forget 
those I loved, and prepare myself for my 
approaching fate. 

" While I was thus engaged, the surgeon, 
Dr. Van Voorhees, came up. He was 
badly wounded. His horse had been shot 
under him, and he had received a ball in 
his leg. Every muscle of his face was quiv- 
ering with the agony of terror. He said 
to me, 'Do you think they will take our 



56 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

lives? I am badly wounded, but I think 
not mortally. Perhaps we might purchase 
our lives by promising them a large reward. 
Do you think there is any chance?' 

" 'Dr. Van Voorhees,' said I, 'do not let 
us waste the moments that yet remain to us 
in such vain hopes. Our fate is inevitable. 
In a few moments we must appear before 
the bar of God. Let us make what prep- 
aration is yet in our power/ 

" 'Oh, I cannot die!' exclaimed he, 'I 
am not fit to die — if I had but a short time 
to prepare — death is awful!' 

"I pointed to Ensign Ronan, who, though 
mortally wounded and nearly down, was still 
fighting with desperation on one knee. 1 

" 'Look at that man!' said I. 'At least 
he dies like a soldier.' 

" 'Yes,' replied the unfortunate surgeon, 
with a convulsive gasp, 'but he has no 
terrors of the future — he is an atheist.' 

"At this moment a young Indian raised 
his tomahawk over me. Springing aside, I 
partially avoided the blow, which, intended 

1 The exact spot of this encounter was about where 21st 
Street crosses Indiana Avenue. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 57 

for my skull, fell on my shoulder. I seized 
the Indian around the neck, and while ex- 
erting my utmost strength to get possession 
of his scalping-knife, hanging in a scabbard 
over his breast, I was dragged from his 
grasp by another and older Indian. 

"The latter bore me struggling and 
resisting towards the lake. Despite the 
rapidity with which I was hurried along, I 
recognized, as I passed, the lifeless remains 
of the unfortunate surgeon. Some mur- 
derous tomahawk had stretched him upon 
the very spot where I had last seen him. 

"I was immediately plunged into the 
water and held there with a forcible hand, 
notwithstanding my resistance. I soon per- 
ceived, however, that the object of my 
captor was not to drown me, for he held me 
firmly in such a position as to keep my 
head above water. This reassured me, 
and, regarding him attentively, I soon 
recognized, in spite of the paint with which 
he was disguised, the Black Partridge. 

"When the firing had nearly subsided, 
my preserver bore me from the water and 
conducted me up the sand banks. It was 



58 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

a burning August morning, and walking 
through the sand in my drenched condition 
was inexpressibly painful and fatiguing. I 
stooped and took off my shoes to free them 
from the sand with which they were nearly 
filled, when a squaw seized and carried 
them off, and I was obliged to proceed with- 
out them. 

"When we had gained the prairie, I was 
met by my father, who told me that my 
husband was safe and but slightly wounded. 
I was led gently back towards the Chicago 
River, along the southern bank of which 
was the Potowatomi encampment. Once 
I was placed upon a horse without a saddle, 
but, finding the motion insupportable, I 
sprang off. Assisted partly by my kind 
conductor, Black Partridge, and partly by 
another Indian, Pee-so-tum, who held dang- 
ling in his hand a scalp which by the 
black ribbon around the queue I recognized 
as that of Captain Wells, I dragged my 
fainting steps to one of the wigwams. 

"The wife of Wau-bee-nee-mah, a chief 
from the Illinois River, was standing near. 
Seeing my exhausted condition, she seized 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 59 

a kettle, dipped up some water from a 
stream that flowed near, 1 threw into it some 
maple sugar, and, stirring it with her 
hand, gave it to me to drink. This act of 
kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, 
touched me deeply. But my attention was 
soon diverted to other things. 

"The fort, since the troops marched 
out, had become a scene of plunder. The 
cattle had been shot as they ran at large, 
and lay about, dead or dying. This work 
of butchery had commenced just as we were 
leaving the fort. I vividly recalled a re- 
mark of Ensign Ronan, as the firing went 
on. 'Such,' turning to me, 'is to be our 
fate — to be shot down like brutes!' 

" 'Well, sir,' said the commanding officer, 
who overheard him, 'are you afraid?' 

" 'No,' replied the high-spirited young 
man, T can march up to the enemy where 
you dare not show your face.' And his 
subsequent gallant behavior showed this 
was no idle boast. 

"As the noise of the firing grew gradually 
fainter and the stragglers from the victo- 
rious party came dropping in, I received 

1 Along the present State Street. 



60 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

confirmation of what my father had hur- 
riedly communicated in our meeting on the 
lake shore: the whites had surrendered, 
after the loss of about two thirds of their 
number. They had stipulated, through 
the interpreter, Peresh Leclerc, that their 
lives and those of the remaining women and 
children be spared, and that they be de- 
livered in safety at certain of the British 
posts, unless ransomed by traders in 
the Indian country. It appears that the 
wounded prisoners were not considered as 
included in the stipulation, and upon their 
being brought into camp an awful scene 
ensued. 

"An old squaw, infuriated by the loss of 
friends, or perhaps excited by the sangui- 
nary scenes around her, seemed possessed 
by a demoniac ferocity. Seizing a stable 
fork she assaulted one miserable victim, 
already groaning and writhing in the 
agony of wounds aggravated by the 
scorching beams of the sun. With a 
delicacy of feeling scarcely to have been 
expected under such circumstances, Wau- 
bee-nee-mah stretched a mat across two 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 6l 

poles, between me and this dreadful scene. 
I was thus in some degree shielded from its 
horrors, though I could not close my ears 
to the cries of the sufferer. The following 
night five more of the wounded prisoners 
were tomahawked. " 

After the first attack, it appears the 
Americans charged upon a band of Indians 
concealed in a sort of ravine between the 
sand banks and the prairie. The Indians 
gathered together, and after hard fighting, 
in which the number of whites was reduced 
to twenty-eight, their band succeeded in 
breaking through the enemy and gaining 
a rise of ground not far from Oak Woods. 
Further contest now seeming hopeless, 
Lieutenant Helm sent Peresh Leclerc, the 
half-breed boy in the service of Mr. Kinzie, 
who had accompanied the troops and fought 
manfully on their side, to propose terms of 
capitulation. It was stipulated, as told in 
Mrs. Helm's narrative, that the lives of all 
the survivors should be spared, and a ran- 
som permitted as soon as practicable. 

But in the meantime horrible scenes 
had indeed been enacted. During the 



62 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

engagement near the sand hills one young 
savage climbed into the baggage wagon 
which sheltered the twelve children of the 
white families, and tomahawked the entire 
group. Captain Wells, who was fighting 
near, beheld the deed, and exclaimed: 

"Is that their game, butchering the 
women and children? Then I will kill, too!" 

So saying, he turned his horse's head and 
started for the Indian camp, near the fort, 
where the braves had left their squaws and 
children. 

Several Indians followed him as he gal- 
loped along. Lying flat on the neck 
of his horse, and loading and firing in 
that position, he turned occasionally on his 
pursuers. But at length their balls took 
effect, killing his horse, and severely wound- 
ing the Captain. At this moment he 
was met by Winnemeg and Wau-ban-see, 
who endeavored to save him from the 
savages who had now overtaken him. As 
they helped him along, after having dis- 
engaged him from his horse, he received his 
deathblow from Pee-so-tum, who stabbed 
him in the back. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 63 

The heroic resolution shown during the 
fight by the wife of one of the soldiers, a 
Mrs. Corbin, deserves to be recorded. 
She had from the first expressed the deter- 
mination never to fall into the hands of 
the savages, believing that their prisoners 
were invariably subjected to tortures worse 
than death. 

When, therefore, a party came upon her 
to make her prisoner, she fought with 
desperation, refusing to surrender, although 
assured, by signs, of safety and kind treat- 
ment. Literally, she suffered herself to be 
cut to pieces, rather than become their 
captive. 

There was a Sergeant Holt, who early in 
the engagement received a ball in the neck. 
Finding himself badly wounded, he gave 
his sword to his wife, who was on horse- 
back near him, telling her to defend her- 
self. He then made for the lake, to keep 
out of the way of the balls. 

Mrs. Holt rode a very fine horse, which the 
Indians were desirous of possessing, and they 
therefore attacked her in the hope of dis- 
mounting her. They fought only with the 



64 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

butt ends of their guns, for their object was 
not to kill her. She hacked and hewed at 
their pieces as they were thrust against her, 
now on this side, now that. Finally, she 
broke loose and dashed out into the prairie, 
where the Indians pursued her, shouting 
and laughing, and now and then calling 
out, "The brave woman! do not hurt her!" 

At length they overtook her, and while she 
was engaged with two or three in front, one 
succeeded in seizing her by the neck from 
behind, and in dragging her from her horse, 
large and powerful woman though she was. 
Notwithstanding their guns had been so 
hacked and injured, and they themselves 
severely cut, her captors seemed to regard 
her only with admiration. They took her 
to a trader on the Illinois River, who showed 
her every kindness during her captivity, 
and later restored her to her friends. 

Meanwhile those of Mr. Kinzie's family 
who had remained in the boat, near the 
mouth of the river, were carefully guarded 
by Kee-po-tah and another Indian. They 
had seen the smoke, then the blaze, and 
immediately after, the report of the first 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 65 

tremendous discharge had sounded in 
their ears. Then all was confusion. They 
knew nothing of the events of the battle 
until they saw an Indian coming towards 
them from the battle ground, leading a 
horse on which sat a lady, apparently 
wounded. 

"That is Mrs. Heald," cried Mrs. Kin- 
zie. "That Indian will kill her. Run, 
Chandonnai," to one of Mr. Kinzie's clerks, 
"take the mule that is tied there, and offer 
it to him to release her. " 

Mrs. Heald's captor, by this time, was 
in the act of disengaging her bonnet from 
her head, in order to scalp her. Chan- 
donnai ran up and offered the mule as a 
ransom, with the promise of ten bottles 
of whisky as soon as they should reach his 
village. The whisky was a strong tempta- 
tion. 

"But," said the Indian, "she is badly 
wounded — she will die. Will you give me 
the whisky at all events ?" 

Chandonnai promised that he would, 
and the bargain was concluded. The sav- 
age placed the lady's bonnet on his own 



66 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

head, and, after an ineffectual effort on the 
part of some squaws to rob her of her shoes 
and stockings, she was brought on board 
the boat, where she lay moaning with pain 
from the many bullet wounds in her arms. 

Having wished to possess themselves of 
her horse uninjured, the Indians had aimed 
their shots so as to disable the rider, with- 
out in any way harming her steed. 

Mrs. Heald had not lain long in the boat 
when a young Indian of savage aspect was 
seen approaching. A buffalo robe was 
hastily drawn over her, and she was ad- 
monished to suppress all sound of complaint, 
as she valued her life. 

The heroic woman remained perfectly 
silent while the savage drew near. He had 
a pistol in his hand, which he rested on 
the side of the boat, while, with a fearful 
scowl, he looked pryingly around. Black 
Jim, one of the servants, who stood in the 
bow of the boat, seized an ax that lay near 
and signed to him that if he shot he would 
cleave his skull, telling him that the boat 
contained only the family of Shaw-nee-aw- 
kee. Upon this, the Indian retired. It 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 67 

afterwards appeared that the object of his 
search was Mr. Burnett, a trader from St. 
Joseph with whom he had some account 

to settle. 

When the boat was at length permitted 
to return to the house of Mr. Kinzie, and 
Mrs. Heald was removed there, it became 
necessary to dress her wounds. 

Mr. Kinzie applied to an old chief who 
stood by, and who, like most of his tribe, 
possessed some skill in surgery, to extract 
a ball from the arm of the sufferer. 

"No, father," replied the Indian. "I 
cannot do it— it makes me sick here,' 3 
placing his hand on his heart. 

Mr. Kinzie himself then performed the 
operation with his penknife. 

At their own house, the family of Mr. 
Kinzie were closely guarded by their Indian 
friends, whose intention it was to carry 
them to Detroit for security. The rest of 
the prisoners remained at the wigwams of 

their captors. 

On the following morning, the work 
of plunder being completed, the Indians 
set fire to the fort. A very equitable 



68 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

distribution of the finery appeared to have 
been made, and shawls, ribbons, and 
feathers fluttered about in all directions. 
The ludicrous appearance of one young 
fellow arrayed in a muslin gown and a 
lady's bonnet would, under other cir- 
cumstances, have been a matter of great 
amusement. 

Black Partridge, Wau-ban-see, and Kee- 
po-tah, with two other Indians, established 
themselves in the porch of the Kinzie house 
as sentinels, to protect the family from any 
evil that the young men might be incited 
to commit, and all remained tranquil for 
a short space after the conflagration. 

Very soon, however, a party of Indians 
from the Wabash made their appearance. 
These were, decidedly, the most hostile and 
implacable of all the tribes of the Poto- 
watomi. 

Being more remote, they had shared less 
than some of their brethren in the kindness 
of Mr. Kinzie and his family, and con- 
sequently their friendly regard was not so 
strong. 

Runners had been sent to the villages to 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 69 

apprise these Indians of the intended evac- 
uation of the post, as well as of the plan 
to attack the troops. 

Thirsting to participate in such an event, 
they had hurried to the scene, and great was 
their mortification, on arriving at the river 
Aux Plaines, to meet a party of their friends 
with their chief, Nee-scot-nee-meg, badly 
wounded, and learn that the battle was over, 
the spoils divided, and the scalps all taken. 
Arriving at Chicago they blackened their 
faces, and proceeded toward the dwelling 
of Mr. Kinzie. 

From his station on the piazza Black 
Partridge had watched their approach, and 
his fears were particularly awakened for 
the safety of Mrs. Helm, Mr. Kinzie's step- 
daughter, who had recently come to the 
post, and was personally unknown to the 
more remote Indians. By his advice she 
was made to assume the ordinary dress of 
a Frenchwoman of the country — a short 
gown and petticoat with a blue cotton 
handkerchief wrapped around her head. 
In this disguise she was conducted by 
Black Partridge himself to the house of 



no FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Ouilmette, a Frenchman with a half-breed 
wife, who formed a part of the establish- 
ment of Mr. Kinzie and whose dwelling was 
close at hand. 

It so happened that the Indians came 
first to this house in their search for pris- 
oners. As they approached, the inmates, 
fearful that the fair complexion and general 
appearance of Mrs. Helm might betray 
her as an American, raised a large feather 
bed and placed her under the edge of it upon 
the bedstead, with her face to the wall. 
Mrs. Bisson, a half-breed sister of Ouil- 
mette's wife, then seated herself with her 
sewing upon the front of the bed. 

It was a hot day in August, and the 
feverish excitement of fear and agitation, 
together with her position, which was nearly 
suffocating, became so intolerable that Mrs. 
Helm at length entreated to be released and 
given up to the Indians. 
' "I can but die," said she; "let them put 
an end to my misery at once. ' 

Mrs. Bisson replied, "Your death would 
be the destruction of us all, for Black 
Partridge has resolved that if one drop of 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 71 

the blood of your family is spilled, he will 
take the lives of all concerned in it, even 
his nearest friends; and if once the work of 
murder commences, there will be no end of 
it, so long as there remains one white 
person or half-breed in the country. ' ; 

This expostulation nerved Mrs. Helm 
with fresh courage. 

The Indians entered, and from her 
hiding place she could occasionally see 
them gliding about and stealthily in- 
specting every part of the room, though 
without making any ostensible search, until, 
apparently satisfied that there was no one 
concealed, they left the house. 

All this time Mrs. Bisson had kept her 
seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting 
and arranging the patchwork of the quilt 
on which she was engaged, and preserving 
an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, 
although she knew not but that the next 
moment she might receive a tomahawk in 
her brain. Her self-command unquestion- 
ably saved the lives of all who were present. 

From Ouilmette's house the party of 
Indians proceeded to the dwelling of Mr. 



72 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Kinzie. They entered the parlor in which 
the family were assembled with their faith- 
ful protectors, and seated themselves upon 
the floor, in silence. 

Black Partridge perceived from their 
moody and revengeful looks what was 
passing in their minds, but he dared not 
remonstrate with them. He only observed 
in a low tone to Wau-ban-see, "We have 
endeavored to save our friends, but it is in 
vain — nothing will save them now. ' 

At this moment a friendly whoop was 
heard from a party of newcomers on the 
opposite bank of the river. As the canoes 
in which they had hastily embarked touched 
the bank near the house, Black Partridge 
sprang to meet their leader. 

"Who are you?" demanded he. 

"A man. Who are you?" 

"A man like yourself. But tell me who 
you are," — meaning, Tell me your dispo- 
sition, and which side you are for. 

"I am a Sau-ga-nash!" 

"Then make all speed to the house — 
your friend is in danger, and you alone can 
save him. " 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 73 

Billy Caldwell, 1 for it was he, entered the 
parlor with a calm step, and without a 
trace of agitation in his manner. He 
deliberately took off his accouterments and 
placed them with his rifle behind the door, 
then saluted the hostile savages. 

"How now, my friends! A good day to 
you. I was told there were enemies here, 
but I am glad to find only friends. Why 
have you blackened your faces? Is it that 
you are mourning for the friends you have 
lost in battle?' 1 purposely misunderstand- 
ing this token of evil designs. "Or is 
it that you are fasting? If so, ask our 
friend, here, and he will give you to eat. 
He is the Indian's friend, and never yet 
refused them what they had need of. ' : 

Thus taken by surprise, the savages were 
ashamed to acknowledge their bloody pur- 
pose. They, therefore, said modestly that 
they had come to beg of their friends some 
white cotton in which to wrap their dead 

'Billy Caldwell was a half-breed, and a chief of the nation. 
In his reply, "I am a Sau-ga-nash," or Englishman, he de- 
signed to convey, "I am a white man." Had he said, "I 
am a Potowatomi," it would have been interpreted to 
mean, "I belong to my nation, and am prepared to go all 
lengths with them." 



74 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

before interring them. This was given to 
them, with some other presents, and they 
peaceably took their departure from the 
premises. 

With Mr. Kinzie's party was a non- 
commissioned officer who had made his es- 
cape in a singular manner. As the troops 
had been about to leave the fort, it was 
found that the baggage horses of the sur- 
geon had strayed off. The quartermaster 
sergeant, Griffith, was sent to find and 
bring them on, it being absolutely necessary 
to recover them, since their packs contained 
part of the surgeon's apparatus and the 
medicines for the march. 

For a long time Griffith had been on the 
sick report and for this reason was given 
charge of the baggage, instead of being 
placed with the troops. His efforts to re- 
cover the horses proved unsuccessful, and, 
alarmed at certain appearances of disorder 
and hostile intention among the Indians, 
he was hastening to rejoin his party when 
he was met and made prisoner by To- 
pee-nee-bee. 

Having taken his arms and accouterments 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 75 

from him, the chief put him into a canoe 
and paddled him across the river, bidding 
him make for the woods and secrete him- 
self. This Griffith did; and in the after- 
noon of the following day, seeing from his 
lurking place that all appeared quiet, he 
ventured to steal cautiously into Ouil- 
mette's garden, where he concealed himself 
for a time behind some currant bushes. 

At length he determined to enter the 
house, and accordingly climbed up through 
a small back window into the room where 
the family were, entering just as the 
Wabash Indians had left the house of 
Ouilmette for that of Mr. Kinzie. The 
danger of the sergeant was now imminent. 
The family stripped him of his uniform and 
arrayed him in a suit of deerskin, with belt, 
moccasins, and pipe, like a French engage. 
His dark complexion and heavy black 
whiskers favored the disguise. The family 
were all ordered to address him in French, 
and, although utterly ignorant of this lan- 
guage, he continued to pass for a Weem- 
tee-gosh, 1 and as such remained with Mr. 
Kinzie and his family, undetected by his 

1 Frenchman. 



76 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

enemies, until they reached a place of safety. 

On the third day after the battle, Mr. 
Kinzie and his family, with the clerks of 
the establishment, were put into a boat, 
under the care of Francois, a half-breed 
interpreter, and conveyed to St. Joseph, 
where they remained until the following 
November, under the protection of To-pee- 
nee-bee's band. With the exception of Mr. 
Kinzie they were then conducted to Detroit, 
under the escort of Chandonnai and their 
trusty Indian friend, Kee-po-tah, and de- 
livered as prisoners of war to Colonel 
McKee, the British Indian Agent. 

Mr. Kinzie himself was held at St. Joseph 
and did not succeed in rejoining his family 
until some months later. On his arrival at 
Detroit he was paroled by General Proctor. 

Lieutenant Helm, who was likewise 
wounded, was carried by some friendly 
Indians to their village on the Au Sable 
and thence to Peoria, where he was liberated 
through the intervention of Mr. Thomas 
Forsyth, the half brother of Mr. Kinzie. 
Mrs. Helm accompanied her parents to 
St. Joseph, where they resided for several 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 77 

months in the family of Alexander Robin- 
son, 1 receiving from them all possible kind- 
ness and hospitality. 

Later Mrs. Helm was joined by her 
husband in Detroit, where they both were 
arrested by order of the British com- 
mander, and sent on horseback, in the dead 
of winter, through Canada to Fort George 
on the Niagara frontier. When they ar- 
rived at that post, there had been no official 
appointed to receive them, and, notwith- 
standing their long and fatiguing journey 
in the coldest, most inclement weather, 
Mrs. Helm, a delicate woman of seventeen 
years, was permitted to sit waiting in her 
saddle, outside the gate, for more than an 
hour, before the refreshment of fire or 
food, or even the shelter of a roof, was 
offered her. When Colonel Sheaffe, who 
was absent at the time, was informed of 
this brutal inhospitality, he expressed the 
greatest indignation. He waited on Mrs. 
Helm immediately, apologized in the most 
courteous manner, and treated both her 

1 The Potowatomi chief, so well known to many of the 
early citizens of Chicago. 



78 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

and Lieutenant Helm with the greatest 
consideration and kindness, until, by an 
exchange of prisoners, they were liberated 
and found means of reaching their friends 
in Steuben County, N. Y. 

Captain and Mrs. Heald were sent across 
the lake to St. Joseph the day after the 
battle. The Captain had received two 
wounds in the engagement, his wife seven. 

Captain Heald had been taken prisoner 
by an Indian from the Kankakee, who had 
a strong personal regard for him, and who, 
when he saw Mrs. Heald's wounded and 
enfeebled state, released her husband that 
he might accompany her to St. Joseph. 
To the latter place they were accordingly 
carried by Chandonnai and his party. In 
the meantime, the Indian who had so nobly 
released his prisoner returned to his village 
on the Kankakee, where he had the morti- 
fication of finding that his conduct had 
excited great dissatisfaction among his 
band. So great was the displeasure mani- 
fested that he resolved to make a journey to 
St. Joseph and reclaim his prisoner. 

News of his intention being brought 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 79 

to To-pee-nee-bee and Kee-po-tah, under 
whose care the prisoners were, they held 
a private council with Chandonnai, Mr. 
Kinzie, and the principal men of the 
village, the result of which was a deter- 
mination to send Captain and Mrs. Heald 
to the Island of Mackinac and deliver them 
up to the British. 

They were accordingly put in a bark 
canoe, and paddled by Robinson and his 
wife a distance of three hundred miles along 
the coast of Michigan, and surrendered as 
prisoners of war to the commanding officer 
at Mackinac. 

As an instance of Captain Heald's pro- 
crastinating spirit it may be mentioned 
that, even after he had received positive 
word that his Indian captor was on the 
way from the Kankakee to St. Joseph 
to retake him, he would still have delayed 
at that place another day, to make prepa- 
ration for a more comfortable journey to 
Mackinac. 

The soldiers from Fort Dearborn, with 
their wives and surviving children, were 
dispersed among the different villages of 



80 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

the Potowatomi upon the Illinois, Wabash, 
and Rock rivers, and at Milwaukee, until 
the following spring, when the greater num- 
ber of them were carried to Detroit and 
ransomed. 

Mrs. Burns, with her infant, became the 
prisoner of a chief, who carried her to his 
village and treated her with great kindness. 
His wife, from jealousy of the favor shown 
to "the white woman" and her child, 
always treated them with great hostility. 
On one occasion she struck the infant with 
a tomahawk, and barely failed in her at- 
tempt to put it to death. i Mrs. Burns and 
her child were not left long in the power of 
the old squaw after this demonstration, but 
on the first opportunity were carried to a 
place of safety. 

The family of Mr. Lee had resided in a 
house on the lake shore, not far from the 
fort. Mr. Lee was the owner of Lee's 
Place, which he cultivated as a farm. It 
was his son who had run down with the 

1 Twenty-two years after this, as I [Mrs. Juliette A. Kinzie] 
was on a journey to Chicago in the steamer "Uncle Sam," a 
young woman, hearing my name, introduced herself to me, 
and, raising the hair from her forehead, showed me the mark 
of the tomahawk which had so nearly been fatal to her. 



FCRT DEARBORN MASSACRE 8l 

discharged soldier to give the alarm of 
"Indians,'' at the fort, on the afternoon of 
April 7. The father, the son, and all the 
other members of the family except Mrs. 
Lee and her young infant had fallen victims 
to the Indians on August 15. The two sur- 
vivors were claimed by Black Partridge, and 
carried by him to his village on the Au Sable. 
He had been particularly attached to a lit- 
tle twelve-year-old girl of Mrs. Lee's. This 
child had been placed on horseback for 
the march; and, as she was unaccustomed 
to riding, she was tied fast to the sad- 
dle, lest she should slip or be thrown off. 
She was within reach of the balls at the 
commencement of the engagement, and was 
severely wounded. The horse, setting off 
at a full gallop, partly threw her; but held 
fast by the bands which confined her, she 
hung dangling as the animal ran wildly 
about. In this state she was met by Black 
Partridge, who caught the horse and dis- 
engaged the child from the saddle. Find- 
ing her so badly wounded that she could not 
recover, and seeing that she was in great 
agony, he at once put an end to her pain 



82 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

with his tomahawk. This, he afterwards 
said, was the hardest thing he had ever done, 
but he did it because he could not bear to 
see the child suffer. 

Black Partridge soon became warmly 
attached to the mother — so much so, that 
he wished to marry her; and, though she 
very naturally objected, he continued to 
treat her with the greatest respect and 
consideration. He was in no hurry to 
release her, for he was still in hopes of 
prevailing upon her to become his wife. 
In the course of the winter her child fell ill. 
Finding that none of the remedies within 
their reach was effectual, Black Partridge 
proposed to take the little one to Chicago, 
to a French trader then living in the house 
of Mr. Kinzie, and procure medical aid 
from him. Wrapping up his charge with 
the greatest care, he set out on his journey. 

Arriving at the residence of M. Du Pin, 
he entered the room where the Frenchman 
was, and carefully placed his burden on the 
floor. 

"What have you there?" asked M. Du 
Pin. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 83 

"A young raccoon, which I have brought 
you as a present," was the reply; and, 
opening the pack, he showed the little 
sick infant. 

When the trader had prescribed for the 
child, and Black Partridge was about to 
return to his home, he told his friend of 
the proposal he had made to Mrs. Lee to 
become his wife, and the manner in which 
it had been received. 

M. Du Pin entertained some fear that 
the chief's honorable resolution to allow the 
lady herself to decide whether or not to 
accept his addresses might not hold out, and 
at once entered into a negotiation for her 
ransom. So effectually were the good feel- 
ings of Black Partridge wrought upon that 
he consented to bring his fair prisoner to 
Chicago immediately, that she might be 
restored to her friends. 

Whether the kind trader had at the 
outset any other feeling in the matter than 
sympathy and brotherly kindness, we can- 
not say; we only know that in course of 
time Mrs. Lee became Madame Du Pin, 
and that the worthy couple lived together 



84 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

in great happiness for many years after. 

The fate of Nau-non-gee, a chief of the 
Calumet village, deserves to be recorded. 

During the battle of August 15, the 
principal object of his attack was one 
Sergeant Hays, a man from whom he had 
accepted many kindnesses. 

After Hays had received a ball through 
the body, this Indian ran up to tomahawk 
him, when the sergeant, summoning his re- 
maining strength, pierced him through the 
body with his bayonet. The two fell together. 
Other Indians running up soon dispatched 
Hays, and not until then was his bayonet 
extracted from the body of his adversary. 

After the battle the wounded chief was 
carried to his village on the Calumet, 
where he survived for several days. Find- 
ing his end approaching, he called together 
his young men, and enjoined them, in the 
most solemn manner, to regard the safety 
of their prisoners after his death, and 
out of respect to his memory to take the 
lives of none of them; for he himself fully 
deserved his fate at the hands of the man 
whose kindness he had so ill requited. 



JOHN KINZIE 

A SKETCH 

John McKenzie, or, as he was afterwards 
called, John Kinzie, was the son of Surgeon 
John McKenzie of the 6oth Royal American 
Regiment of Foot, and of Anne Haley- 
burton, the widow of Chaplain William 
Haleyburton of the First or Royal American 
Regiment of Foot. 

Major Haleyburton died soon after their 
arrival in America, and two years later his 
widow married Surgeon John McKenzie. 
Their son John was born in Quebec, De- 
cember 3, 1763. 

In the old family Bible the "Mc" is 
dropped in recording the birth of "John 
Kinsey" (so spelled), thus indicating that 
he was known as John Kinsey, or, as he 
himself spelled it, "Kinzie," from early 
childhood. 

Major McKenzie survived the birth of 
his son but a few months, and his widow 
took for her third husband Mr. William 
Forsyth, of New York City. 

85 



86 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Young John grew up under the care and 
supervision of his stepfather, Mr. Forsyth, 
until at the age of ten he began his ad- 
venturous career by running away. 

He and his two half brothers attended a 
school at Williamsburg, L. I., escorted 
there every Monday by a servant, who came 
to take them home every Friday. One 
fine afternoon when the servant came for 
the boys Master Johnny was missing. An 
immediate search was made, but not a 
trace of him could be found. His mother 
was almost frantic. The mysterious dis- 
appearance of her bright, handsome boy 
was a fearful blow. 

Days passed without tidings of the lost 
one, and hope fled. The only solution 
suggested was, that he might have been 
accidentally drowned and his body swept 
out to sea. 

Meantime Master John was very much 
alive. 

He had determined to go to Quebec to 
try, as he afterwards explained, to discover 
some of his father's relatives. 

He had managed to find a sloop which 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 87 

was just going up the Hudson, and with 
the confidence and audacity of a child, 
stepped gaily on board and set forth on his 
travels. 

Most fortunately for him, he attracted 
the notice of a passenger who was going to 
Quebec, and who began to question the 
lonely little lad. He became so interested 
in the boy that he took him in charge, paid 
his fare, and landed him safely in his 
native city. 

But here, alas, Master Johnny soon found 
himself stranded. Very cold, very hungry, 
and very miserable, he was wandering down 
one of the streets of Quebec when his 
attention was attracted by a glittering 
array of watches and silver in a shop win- 
dow, where a man was sitting repairing a 
clock. 

Johnny stood gazing wistfully in. His 
yellow curls, blue eyes, and pathetic little 
face appealed to the kind silversmith, 
who beckoned him into the shop and soon 
learned his story. 

"And what are you going to do now?' 
asked the man. 



88 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

' I am going to work, " replied ten-year- 
old valiantly. 

"Why, what could you do?" laughed the 
man. 

"I could do anything you told me to do, 
if you just showed me how to do it," said 
John. 

The result was that John got a job. 

The silversmith had no children, and as 
the months rolled on he grew more and more 
fond of John. He taught him as much of 
his trade as the lad could acquire in the 
three years of his stay in Quebec. Later 
in his life this knowledge was of great value 
to him, for it enabled him to secure the 
friendship and assistance of the Indians by 
fashioning for them various ornaments and 
"tokens" from the silver money paid them 
as annuities by the United States Govern- 
ment. The Indians called him " Shaw-nee- 
aw-kee" or the Silver Man, and by that 
name he was known among all the tribes of 
the Northwest. 

These happy and useful years drew to a 
close. As John was one day walking down 
the street, a gentleman from New York 






FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 89 

stopped him and said: "Are you not 
Johnny Kinzie?" John admitted that he 
was, and the gentleman, armed with the 
astonishing news and the boy's address, 
promptly communicated with Mr. Forsyth, 
who at once came to Quebec and took the 
runaway home. 

His rejoicing mother doubtless saved him 
from the sound thrashing he richly deserved 
at the hands of his stepfather. 

John had now had enough of running 
away, and was content to stay at home and 
buckle down to his books. The few letters 
of his which remain and are preserved in 
the Chicago Historical Society give evidence 
of an excellent education. 

The roving spirit was still alive in him, 
however. Mr. Forsyth had moved West 
and settled in Detroit, and when John was 
about eighteen years old he persuaded his 
stepfather to fit him out as an Indian 
trader. 

This venture proved a great success. 
Before he was one and twenty, young 
Kinzie had established two trading posts, 
one at Sandusky and one at Maumee, 



go 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 



and was pushing towards the west, where 
he later started a depot at St. Joseph, 
Michigan. 

John Kinzie's success as an Indian 
trader was almost phenomenal. He ac- 
quired the language of the Indians with 
great facility; he respected their customs, 
and they soon found that his "word was 
as good as his bond.' 1 He was a keen 
trader, not allowing himself to be cheated, 
nor attempting to cheat the Indians. He 
quickly gained the confidence and esteem of 
the various tribes with which he dealt, and the 
personal friendship of many of their most 
powerful chiefs, who showed themselves 
ready to shield him in danger, and to rescue 
him from harm at the risk of their lives. 

When in the neighborhood of Detroit, he 
stayed with his half brother, William For- 
syth, who had married a Miss Margaret 
Lytle, daughter of Colonel William Lytle 
of Virginia. In their home he was always 
a welcome guest; and here he met Mrs. 
Forsyth's younger sister, Eleanor. She was 
the widow of a British officer, Captain 
Daniel McKillip, who had been killed in 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 91 

a sortie from Ft. Defiance. Since her 
husband's death, she and her little daughter 
Margaret had made their home with the 
Forsyths. 

John Kinzie fell desperately in love with 
the handsome young widow, and on Janu- 
ary 23, 1798, they were married. 

In all of his new and arduous career he 
had been greatly aided and protected by John 
Harris, the famous Indian scout and trader 
mentioned by Irving in his Life of Washing- 
ton (Volume 1, Chapter XII). It was in 
grateful appreciation of these kindnesses 
that he named his son "John Harris,'' 
after this valued friend. 

Mr. Kinzie continued to extend his 
business still farther west, until in October, 
1803, when his son John Harris was but 
three months old, he moved with his family 
to Chicago, where he purchased the trading 
establishment of a Frenchman named Le 
Mai. 

Here, cut off from the world at large, 
with no society but the garrison at Fort 
Dearborn, the Kinzies lived in contentment, 
and in the quiet enjoyment of all the 



g2 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

comforts, together with many of the luxuries 
of life. The first white child born outside 
of Fort Dearborn was their little daughter 
Ellen Marion, on December 20, 1805. 
Next came Maria, born September 28, 
1807. Then, last, Robert Allan, born Feb- 
ruary 8, 1 810. 

By degrees, Mr. Kinzie established still 
more remote posts, all contributing to the 
parent post at Chicago; at Milwaukee, with 
the Menominee; at Rock River with the 
Winnebago and the Potowatomi; on the Il- 
linois River and the Kankakee with the 
Prairie Potowatomi; and with the Kickapoo 
in what was called "Le Large," the widely 
extended district afterwards converted 
into Sangamon County. He was appointed 
Sub-Indian Agent and Government Inter- 
preter, and in these capacities rendered 
valuable service. 

About the year 1810, a Frenchman named 
Lalime was killed by John Kinzie under the 
following circumstances: Lalime had become 
insanely jealous of Mr. Kinzie's success as 
a rival trader, and was unwise enough to 
threaten to take Kinzie's life. The latter 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 93 

only laughed at the reports, saying "Threat- 
ened men live long, and I am not worrying 
over Lalime's wild talk. ' : Several of his 
stanchest Indian friends, however, continued 
to warn him, and he at last consented to carry 
some sort of weapon in case Lalime really 
had the folly to attack him. He accord- 
ingly took a carving knife from the house 
and began sharpening it on a grindstone 
in the woodshed. 

Young John stood beside him, much in- 
terested in this novel proceeding. 

"What are you doing, father?'* he asked. 

"Sharpening this knife, my son, ,, was 
the reply. 

"What for?" said John. 

"Go into the house," replied his father, 
"and don't ask questions about things that 
don't concern you." 

A few days passed. Nothing happened; 
but Mr. Kinzie carried the knife. 

Mrs. Kinzie's daughter by her first mar- 
riage was now seventeen years old, and 
was the wife of Lieutenant Linai Thomas 
Helm, one of the officers stationed at 
Fort Dearborn, and Mr. Kinzie frequently 



Q4 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

went over there to spend the evening. One 
very dark night he sauntered over to the 
fort, and was just entering the inclosure, 
when a man sprang out from behind the 
gate post and plunged a knife into his 
neck. It was Lalime. Quick as a flash, 
Mr. Kinzie drew his own knife and dealt 
Lalime a furious blow, and a fatal one. 
The man fell like a log into the river 
below. Mr. Kinzie staggered home, cov- 
ered with blood from the deep wound. 

The late Gurdon S. Hubbard, in a letter 
to a grandson of John Kinzie's, gives the 
following account of the affair: 

143 Locust St., Chicago, 111., 

Feb. 6th, 1884. 
Arthur M. Kinzie, Esq., 
My Dear Sir, 
I have yours of 5th. You corroborate 
what I have said about your grandfather 
killing Lalime as far as you state. I am 
glad you do. I cannot forget what I heard 
from your grandmother and Mrs. Helm. 
They said your grandfather, coming in 
bloody, said "I have killed Lalime. A 
guard will be sent from the Fort to take me. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 95 

Dress my neck quickly!" Your grand- 
mother did so, remarking "They shall 
not take you to the fort — come with me to 
the woods." She hid him, came home, 
and soon a Sergeant with guard appeared. 
Could not find your grandfather. 

After the excitement was over, the officers 
began to reason on the subject calmly, for 
Lalime was highly respected, good social 
company, educated. They came to the 
conclusion that the act was in self defence. 
The history of Chicago, by Mr. Andreas 
will soon be out. He sent me the account 
relating to your grandfather to revise. 
Much in it incorrect, which I have ex- 
plained. 

Can't you come and see me? 

Your friend, 

G. S. Hubbard. 

As far as it goes this account agrees with 
the facts as held by the family. The Kinzies, 
however, always stated that after the excite- 
ment subsided, as it did in a few weeks, Mr. 
Kinzie sent word to the commanding officer 
at the fort that he wished to come in, give 



g6 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

himself up, and have a fair trial. This was 
granted. The fresh wounds in his neck — 
the thrust had barely missed the jugular 
vein — and the testimony given as to the 
threats Lalime had uttered, resulted in an 
immediate verdict of justifiable homicide. 

In the meantime some of Lalime's friends 
conceived the idea that it would be a 
suitable punishment for Mr. Kinzie to bury 
his victim directly in front of the Kinzie 
home, where he must necessarily behold 
the grave every time he passed out of his 
own gate. Great was their chagrin and 
disappointment, however, when Mr. Kinzie, 
far from being annoyed at their action, 
proceeded to make Lalime's grave his 
special care. 

Flowers were planted on it and it was 
kept in most beautiful order. Many a 
half hour the Kinzie children longed to 
spend in play, was occupied by their 
father's order in raking the dead leaves 
away from Lalime's grave and watering 
the flowers there. 

About two years subsequent to this event 
the Fort Dearborn Massacre occurred. John 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 97 

Kinzie's part in that tragedy has already 
been given in Helm's narrative. 

After the massacre Mr. Kinzie was not 
allowed to leave St. Joseph with his 
family, his Indian friends insisting that 
he remain and endeavor to secure some 
remnant of his scattered property. During 
his excursions with them for that purpose 
he wore the costume and paint of the 
tribe in order to escape capture and perhaps 
death at the hands of those who were still 
thirsting for blood. 

His anxiety for his family at length 
became so great that he followed them to 
Detroit, where he was paroled by General 
Proctor in January. 

At the surrender of Detroit, which took 
place the day before the massacre at Chicago, 
General Hull had stipulated that the in- 
habitants should be permitted to remain 
undisturbed in their homes. Accordingly, 
the family of Mr. Kinzie took up their 
residence among their friends in the old 
mansion which many will recollect as stand- 
ing on the northwest corner of Jefferson 
Avenue and Wayne Street, Detroit. 



98 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Feelings of indignation and sympathy 
were constantly aroused in the hearts of 
the citizens during the winter that ensued. 
They were almost daily called upon to 
witness the cruelties practiced upon Ameri- 
can prisoners brought in by their Indian 
captors. Those who could scarcely drag 
their wounded, bleeding feet over the frozen 
ground were compelled to dance for the 
amusement of the savages; and these ex- 
hibitions sometimes took place before the 
Government House, the residence of Colonel 
McKee. Sometimes British officers looked 
on from their windows at these heart-rending 
performances. For the honor of humanity, 
we will hope such instances were rare. 

Everything available among the effects of 
the citizens was offered to ransom their 
countrymen from the hands of these 
inhuman beings. The prisoners brought 
in from the River Raisin — those unfortu- 
nate men who were permitted, after their 
surrender to General Proctor, to be tortured 
and murdered by inches by his savage 
allies — excited the sympathy and called 
for the action of the whole community. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 99 

Private houses were turned into hospitals, 
and every one was forward to get possession 
of as many as possible of the survivors. 
To accomplish this, even articles of apparel 
were bartered by the ladies of Detroit, as 
from doors or windows they watched the 
miserable victims carried about for sale. 

In the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie one large 
room was devoted to the reception of the 
sufferers. Few of them survived. Among 
those spoken of as arousing the deepest 
interest were two young gentlemen of Ken- 
tucky, brothers, both severely wounded, and 
their wounds aggravated to a mortal degree 
by subsequent ill usage and hardships. 
Their solicitude for each other, and their 
exhibition in various ways of the most ten- 
der fraternal affection, created an impres- 
sion never to be forgotten. 

The last bargain made by the Kinzies 
was effected by black Jim and one of the 
children, who had permission to redeem a 
negro servant of the gallant Colonel Allen 
with an old white horse, the only available 
article that remained among their pos- 
sessions. A brother of Colonel Allen's 



100 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

afterwards came to Detroit, and the negro 
preferred returning to servitude rather than 
remaining a stranger in a strange land. 

Mr. Kinzie, as has been related, joined 
his family at Detroit in the month of 
January. A short time after his arrival 
suspicion arose in the mind of General 
Proctor that he was in correspondence with 
General Harrison, who was now at Fort 
Meigs, and who was believed to be medi- 
tating an advance upon Detroit. Lieu- 
tenant Watson, of the British army, waited 
upon Mr. Kinzie one day with an invitation 
to the quarters of General Proctor on 
the opposite side of the river, saying the 
General wished to speak with him on 
business. 

Quite unsuspecting, Mr. Kinzie complied 
with the request, when to his surprise he 
was ordered into confinement, and strictly 
guarded in the house of his former partner, 
Mr. Patterson, of Sandwich. 

Finding he did not return home, Mrs. 
Kinzie informed some Indian chiefs, Mr. 
Kinzie's particular friends, who immedi- 
ately repaired to the headquarters of the 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IOI 

commanding officer, demanded " their 
friend's" release, and brought him back to 
his home. After waiting until a favorable 
opportunity presented itself, the General 
sent a detachment of dragoons to arrest Mr. 
Kinzie. They succeeded in carrying him 
away, and crossing the river with him. 
Just at this moment a party of friendly 
Indians made their appearance. 

"Where is Shaw-nee-aw-kee?" was the 
first question. 

"There," replied his wife, pointing across 
the river, " in the hands of the redcoats, 
who are taking him away again. " 

The Indians ran down to the river, 
seized some canoes they found there, and, 
crossing over to Sandwich, a second time 
compelled General Proctor to forego his 
intentions. 

A third time this officer attempted to 
imprison Mr. Kinzie, and this time suc- 
ceeded in conveying him heavily ironed to 
Fort Maiden, in Canada, at the mouth 
of the Detroit River. Here he was at 
first treated with great severity, but after 
a time the rigor of his confinement was 



102 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

somewhat relaxed, and he was permitted 
to walk on the bank of the river for air and 
exercise. 

On September 10, as he was taking his 
promenade under the close supervision of 
a guard of soldiers, the whole party were 
startled by the sound of guns upon Lake 
Erie, at no great distance below. What 
could it mean? It must be Commodore 
Barclay firing into some of the Yankees. 
The firing continued. 

The hour allotted to the prisoner for his 
daily walk expired, but neither he nor his 
guard observed the lapse of time, so anx- 
iously were they listening to what they now 
felt sure must be an engagement between 
ships of war. At length Mr. Kinzie was 
reminded that he must return to confine- 
ment. He petitioned for another half 
hour. 

"Let me stay," said he, "till we can 
learn how the battle has gone. ' 

Very soon a sloop appeared under press 
of sail, rounding the point, and presently 
two gunboats in pursuit of her. 

"She is running— she bears the British 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IO3 

colors!" cried Kinzie. "Yes, yes, they are 
lowering — she is striking her flag! Now, ' : 
turning to the soldiers, "I will go back to 
prison contented — I know how the battle 
has gone. " 

The sloop was the "Little Belt," the last 
of the squadron captured by the gallant 
Perry on that memorable occasion which he 
announced in the immortal words: 

"We have met the enemy, and they are 
ours." 

Matters were growing critical, and it 
was necessary to transfer all prisoners to 
a place of greater security than the frontier 
was now likely to be. It was resolved, 
therefore, to send Mr. Kinzie to the mother 
country. 

Nothing has ever appeared which would 
in any way explain the course of General 
Proctor in regard to this gentleman. He 
had been taken from the bosom of his 
family, where he was living quietly under 
the parole he had received, protected by 
the stipulations of the surrender. For 
months he had been kept in confinement. 
Now he was placed on horseback under a 



104 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

strong guard, who announced that they 
had orders to shoot him through the head 
if he offered to speak to a person upon 
the road. He was tied upon the saddle 
to prevent his escape, and thus set out 
for Quebec. A little incident occurred 
which will illustrate the course invariably 
pursued towards our citizens at this period 
by the British army on the Northwestern 
frontier. 

The saddle on which Mr. Kinzie rode had 
not been properly fastened, and, owing to 
the rough motion of the animal it turned, 
bringing the rider into a most awkward and 
painful position. His limbs being fastened, 
he could not disengage himself, and in this 
manner he was compelled to ride until nearly 
exhausted, before those in charge had the 
humanity to release him. 

Arrived at Quebec, he was put on board 
a small vessel to be sent to England. When 
a few days out at sea the vessel was chased 
by an American frigate and driven into 
Halifax. A second time she set sail, when 
she sprung a leak and was compelled to 
put back. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IO5 

The attempt to send Mr. Kinzie across 
the ocean was now abandoned, and he was 
returned to Quebec. Another step, equally 
inexplicable with his arrest, was soon after 
taken. 

Although the War of 1812 was not yet 
ended, Mr. Kinzie, together with a Mr. 
Macomb, of Detroit, who was also in con- 
finement in Quebec, was released and 
given permission to return to his friends 
and family. It may possibly be imagined 
that in the treatment these gentlemen re- 
ceived, the British commander-in-chief 
sheltered himself under the plea of their 
being "native born British subjects," and 
that perhaps when it was ascertained that 
Mr. Kinzie was indeed a citizen of the 
United States it was thought safest to 
release him. 

In the meantime, General Harrison at 
the head of his troops had reached Detroit. 
He landed September 29. All the citizens 
went forth to meet him. Mrs. Kinzie, 
leading her children, was of the number. 
The General accompanied her to her home, 
and took up his abode there. On his 



106 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

arrival he was introduced to Kee-po-tah, 
who happened to be on a visit to the family 
at that time. The General had seen the 
chief the preceding year, at the Council 
at Vincennes, and the meeting was one of 
great cordiality and interest. 

Fort Dearborn was rebuilt in 1816, on 
a larger scale than before, and, on the re- 
turn of the troops, the bones of the unfor- 
tunate Americans who had been massacred 
four years previously were collected and 
buried. 

In this same year Mr. Kinzie and his 
family again returned to Chicago, where 
he at once undertook to collect the scattered 
remnants of his property — a most dis- 
heartening task. He found his various 
trading-posts abandoned, his clerks scat- 
tered, and his valuable furs and goods 
lost or destroyed. 

In real estate, however, he was rich — for 
he owned nearly all the land on the north 
side of the Chicago River, and many 
acres on the south and west sides, as well 
as all of what was known as "Kinzie's 
Addition. " 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE IO7 

At the present day the "Kinzie School,'' 
and the street which bears his name, are 
all that remain to remind this generation of 
the pioneer on whose land now stands the 
wonderful City of Chicago. 

Mr. Kinzie, recognizing the importance 
of the geographical position of Chicago, 
and the vast fertility of the surrounding 
country, had always foretold its eventual 
prosperity. Unfortunately, he was not per- 
mitted to witness the fulfillment of his 
predictions. 

On January 6, 1828, he was stricken with 
apoplexy, and in a few hours death closed 
his useful and energetic career. 

He lies buried in Graceland Cemetery, 
Chicago. Loyal in life, death has mingled 
his ashes with the soil of the city whose 
future greatness he was perhaps the first to 
foresee. 

John Kinzie was not only the sturdy, 
helpful pioneer, but also the genial, cour- 
teous gentleman. 

To keen business ability he united the 
strictest honesty, and to the most dauntless 
courage, a tender and generous heart. 



io8 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 



As the devoted friend of the red man, 
tradition has handed down the name of 
Shaw-nee-aw-kee throughout all the tribes 
of the Northwest. 







Cornplanter, a Seneca chief 



THE CAPTURE BY THE INDIANS 
OF LITTLE ELEANOR LYTLE* 
It is well known that previous to the War 
of the Revolution the whole of western 
Pennsylvania was inhabited by various 
Indian tribes. Of these the Delawares 
were the friends of the whites, and after the 
commencement of the great struggle took 
part with the United States. The Iroquois, 
on the contrary, were the friends and allies 
of the mother country. 

Very few white settlers had ventured 
beyond the Susquehanna. The numerous 
roving bands of Shawano, Nanticoke, and 
other Indians, although at times professing 
friendship for the Americans and acting 
in concert with the Delawares or Lenape 
as allies, at other times suffered themselves 
to be seduced by their neighbors, the 
Iroquois, into showing a most sanguinary 
spirit of hostility. 

For this reason the life of the settlers on 
the frontier was one of constant peril and 

1 Afterward the wife of John Kinzie. 
109 



110 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

alarm. Many a dismal scene of barbarity 
was enacted, as the history of the times 
testifies, and even those who felt themselves 
in some measure protected by their imme- 
diate neighbors, the Delawares, never lost 
sight of the caution required by their ex- 
posed situation. 

The vicinity of the military garrison at 
Pittsburgh, or Fort Pitt, as it was then 
called, gave additional security to those 
who had pushed farther west among the 
fertile valleys of the Allegheny and Monon- 
gahela. Among these was the family of 
Mr. Lytle, who, some years previous to the 
opening of our story, had removed from 
Baltimore to Path Valley, near Carlisle, and 
subsequently had settled on the banks of 
Plum River, a tributary of the Allegheny. 
Here, with his wife and five children, he 
had lived in comfort and security, un- 
disturbed by any hostile visit, and annoyed 
only by occasional false alarms from 
his more timorous neighbors, who, having 
had sad experience in frontier life, were 
prone to anticipate evil, and magnify 
every appearance of danger. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE III 

On a bright afternoon in the autumn of 
1779, two of Mr. Lytle's children, a girl of 
eight and her brother, two years younger, 
were playing in a little hollow in the rear 
of their father's house. Some large trees 
which had recently been felled were lying 
here and there, still untrimmed, and many 
logs, prepared for fuel, were scattered 
around. Upon one of these logs the children, 
wearied with their sport, seated themselves, 
and fell into conversation upon a subject 
that greatly perplexed them. 

While playing in the same place a few 
hours previous, they had imagined they 
saw an Indian lurking behind one of the 
fallen trees. The Indians of the neighbor- 
hood were in the habit of making occasional 
visits to the family, and the children had 
become familiar and even affectionate with 
many of them, but this Indian had seemed 
to be a stranger, and after the first hasty 
glance they had fled in alarm to the house. 

Their mother had chid them for bringing 
such a report, which she had endeavored 
to convince them was without foundation. 
"You know," said she, "you are always 



112 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

alarming us unnecessarily: the neighbors' 
children have frightened you nearly to 
death. Go back to your play, and learn 
to be more courageous. ' ! 

So, hardly persuaded by their mother's 
arguments, the children had returned to their 
sports. Now as they sat upon the trunk of 
the tree, their discourse was interrupted by 
what seemed to be the note of a quail not 
far off. 

"Listen," said the boy, as a second note 
answered the first; "do you hear that?' 

"Yes," replied his sister, and after a few 
moments' silence, "do you not hear a 
rustling among the branches of the tree 
yonder?" 

"Perhaps it is a squirrel — but look! 
what is that? Surely I saw something red 
among the branches. It looked like a fawn 
popping up its head." 

At this moment, the children, who had 
been gazing so intently in the direction of 
the fallen tree that all other objects were 
forgotten, felt themselves seized from behind 
and pinioned in an iron grasp. What was 
their horror and dismay to find themselves 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE II3 

in the arms of savages, whose terrific coun- 
tenances and gestures plainly showed them 
to be enemies! 

They made signs to the children to be 
silent, on pain of death, and hurried them 
off, half dead with terror, in a direction 
leading from their home. After traveling 
some distance in profound silence, their 
captors somewhat relaxed their severity, 
and as night approached the party halted, 
adopting the usual precautions to secure 
themselves against a surprise. 

Torn from their beloved home and par- 
ents, in an agony of uncertainty and terror, 
and anticipating all the horrors with which 
the rumors of the times had invested cap- 
tivity among the Indians — perhaps even 
torture and death — the poor children could 
no longer restrain their grief, but gave vent 
to sobs and lamentations. 

Their distress appeared to excite the 
compassion of one of the party, a man of 
mild aspect, who approached and en- 
deavored to soothe them. He spread them 
a couch of the long grass which grew near 
the camping place, offered them a portion 



114 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

of his own stock of dried meat and parched 
corn, and made them understand by signs 
that no further evil was intended. 

These kindly demonstrations were in- 
terrupted by the arrival of another party 
of Indians, bringing with them the 
mother of the little prisoners, with her 
youngest child, an infant three months old. 

It had so happened that early in the 
day the father of the family, with his serv- 
ing men, had gone to a "raising" a few 
miles distant, and the house had thus 
been left without a defender. The long 
period of tranquillity they had enjoyed, 
free from all molestation or even alarm 
from the savages, had thrown the set- 
tlers quite off their guard, and they had 
recently laid aside some of the caution they 
had formerly deemed necessary. 

By lying in wait, the Indians had found 
a favorable moment for seizing the de- 
fenseless family and making them prisoners. 
Judging from their paint and other marks 
by which the early settlers learned to dis- 
tinguish the various tribes, Mrs. Lytle 
conjectured that the savages into whose 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE II5 

hands she and her children had fallen were 
Senecas. Nor was she mistaken. They 
were a party of that tribe who had de- 
scended from their village with the intention 
of falling upon some isolated band of their 
enemies, the Delawares, but failing in this, 
they had made themselves amends by cap- 
turing a few white settlers. 

It is to be attributed to the generally 
mild disposition of this tribe, together 
with the magnanimous charactei of the 
chief who accompanied the party, that the 
prisoners in the present instance escaped 
the fate of most of the Americans who were 
so unhappy as to fall into the hands of the 
Iroquois. 

The children could learn nothing from 
their mother as to the fate of their other 
brother and sister, a boy of six and a little 
girl of four years of age, though she was 
in hopes they had escaped with the servant 
girl, who had likewise disappeared. 

After delaying a few hours in order to 
revive the exhausted prisoners, the savages 
again started on their march, one of the 
older Indians offering to relieve the mother 



Il6 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

of the burden of her infant, which she had 
hitherto carried in her arms. Pleased with 
the unexpected kindness, she resigned the 
child to him. 

Thus they pursued their way, the savage 
who carried the infant lingering somewhat 
behind the rest of the party. At last, find- 
ing a spot convenient for his evil purpose, 
he grasped his innocent victim by the feet 
and, with one whirl to add strength to the 
blow, dashed out its brains against a tree. 
Leaving the body upon the spot, he then 
rejoined the party. 

The mother, unaware of what had hap- 
pened, regarded him suspiciously as he 
reappeared without the child — then gazed 
wildly around the group. Her beloved 
little one was not there. Its absence 
spoke its fate; but, knowing the lives of 
her remaining children depended upon her 
firmness in that trying hour, she suppressed 
a shriek of agony and, drawing them yet 
closer to her, pursued her melancholy way 
without word or question. 

From the depths of her heart she cried 
unto Him who is able to save, and He 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I 1 7 

comforted her with hopes of deliverance for 
the survivors; for she saw that if blood 
had been the sole object of their enemies 
her scalp and the scalps of her children 
would have been taken upon the spot where 
they were made prisoners. 

She read, too, in the eyes of one who 
was evidently the commander of the party 
an expression more merciful than she had 
dared to hope for. Particularly had she 
observed his soothing manner and manifest 
partiality towards her eldest child, her 
little Eleanor, and upon these slender 
foundations she built many bright hopes of 
either escape or ransom. 

After a toilsome and painful march of 
many days, the party reached the Seneca 
village, upon the headwaters of the Alle- 
gheny, near what is now Olean Point. On 
their arrival their conductor, a chief dis- 
tinguished by the name of the Big White 
Man, 1 led his prisoners to the principal 
lodge. This was occupied by his mother, 

1 Although this is the name of her benefactor, preserved 
by our mother, it seems evident that this chief was in fact 
Corn Planter, a personage well known in the history of the 
times. There could hardly have been two such prominent 
chiefs of the same name in one village. 



Il8 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

the widow of the head chief of the band, 
who was called the Old Queen. 

On entering her presence, her son pre- 
sented the little girl, saying, "My mother, 
I bring you a child to take the place of my 
brother who was killed by the Lenape six 
moons ago. She shall dwell in my lodge, 
and be to me a sister. Take the white 
woman and her children and treat them 
kindly — our Father will give us many horses 
and guns to buy them back again. ' : 

He referred to the British Indian Agent 
of his tribe, Colonel Johnson, an excellent 
and benevolent gentleman, who resided at 
Fort Niagara, on the British side of the 
Niagara River. 

The Old Queen carried out the injunc- 
tions of her son. She received the prisoners, 
and every comfort that her simple and 
primitive mode of life made possible was 
provided them. 

We must now return to the time and place 
at which our story commences. 

Late in the evening of that day the father 
returned to his dwelling. All around and 
within was silent and desolate. No trace of 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I 1 9 

a living creature was to be found in the house 
or throughout the grounds. His nearest 
neighbors lived at a considerable distance, 
but to them he hastened, frantically de- 
manding tidings of his family. 

As he aroused them from their slumbers, 
one after another joined him in the search. 
At length, at one of the houses, the maid 
servant who had effected her escape was 
found. Her first place of refuge, she said, 
had been a large brewing tub in an outer 
kitchen, under which she had secreted her- 
self until the Indians, who were evidently 
in haste, departed and gave her the oppor- 
tunity of fleeing to a place of greater safety. 
She could give no tidings of her mistress 
and the children, except that they had not 
been murdered in her sight or hearing. 

At last, having scoured the neighbor- 
hood without success, Mr. Lytle thought of 
an old settler who lived alone, far up the 
valley. Thither he and his friends im- 
mediately repaired, and from him they 
learned that, while at work in his field 
just before sunset, he had seen a party of 
strange Indians passing at a short distance 



120 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

from his cabin. As they wound along the 
brow of the hill he perceived that they 
had prisoners with them — a woman and a 
child. The woman he knew to be white, 
as she carried her infant in her arms, in- 
stead of upon her back, after the manner of 
the savages. 

Day had now begun to break. The night 
had been passed in fruitless search, and, 
after consultation with kind friends and 
neighbors, the agonized father accepted their 
offer to accompany him to Fort Pitt that 
they might ask advice and assistance of the 
commandant and Indian Agent there. 

Proceeding down the valley, they ap- 
proached a hut which the night before 
they had found apparently deserted, and 
were startled by seeing two children stand- 
ing in front of it. In them the delighted 
father recognized two of his missing flock, 
but no tidings could they give him of 
their mother or of the other members of 
his family. 

Their story was simple and touching. 
They had been playing in the garden when 
they were alarmed by seeing Indians enter 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 121 

the yard near the house. Unperceived, the 
brother, who was but six years of age, 
helped his little sister over the fence into 
a field overrun with wild blackberry and 
raspberry bushes. Among these they con- 
cealed themselves for awhile, and then, 
finding all quiet, attempted to force their 
way to the side of the field farthest from 
the house. Unfortunately, in her play in 
the garden the little girl had pulled off 
her shoes and stockings, and now with 
the briers pricking and tearing her tender 
feet, she could with difficulty refrain 
from crying out. Her brother took off 
his stockings and put them on her feet, 
and attempted to protect her with his shoes, 
also; but they were too large, and kept 
slipping off, so that she could not wear 
them. For a time the children persevered 
in making their escape from what they 
considered certain death, for, as was said, 
they had been taught, by the tales they 
had heard, to regard all strange Indians 
as ministers of torture and of horrors 
worse than death. Exhausted with pain 
and fatigue, the poor little girl at length 



122 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

declared that she could not go any farther. 

"Then, Maggie," said her brother, "I 
must kill you, for I cannot let you be killed 
by the Indians." 

"Oh, no, Thomas!" pleaded she, "do 
not, do not kill me! I do not think the 
Indians will find us." 

"Oh, yes, they will, Maggie, and I 
could kill you so much easier than they 
would!" 

For a long time he endeavored to per- 
suade her, and even looked about for a 
stick sufficiently large for his purpose; but 
despair gave the child strength, and she 
promised her brother she would neither 
complain nor falter if he would help her 
make her way out of the field. 

The little boy's idea that he could save 
his sister from savage barbarity only by 
taking her life shows with what tales of 
horror the children of the early settlers 
were familiar. 

After a few more efforts, they made their 
way out of the field into an open pasture 
ground where, to their great delight, they 
saw some cows feeding. They recognized 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I 23 

the animals as belonging to Granny Myers, 
an old woman who lived at some little dis- 
tance from the place where they then were, 
but in what direction they were utterly 
ignorant. 

With a sagacity beyond his years the 
boy said, "Let us hide ourselves till sunset. 
Then the cows will go home, and we will 
follow them. " 

This they did; but, to their dismay, when 
they reached Granny Myers's they found 
the house deserted. The old woman had 
been called down the valley by some 
business, and did not return that night. 

Tired and hungry, the children could go 
no farther, and after an almost fruitless 
endeavor to get some milk from the cows, 
lay down to sleep under an old bedstead 
that stood behind the house. During the 
night their father and his party caused them 
additional terror. The shouts and calls 
which had been designed to arouse the in- 
mates of the house the children mistook 
for the whoop of the Indians, and, unable 
to distinguish friends from foes, crept close 
to each other, as far out of sight as possible. 



124 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

When found the following morning, they 
were debating what course for safety to take 
next. 

The commandant at Fort Pitt entered 
warmly into the affairs of Mr. Lytle, and 
readily furnished a detachment of soldiers 
to aid him and his friends in the pursuit 
of the marauders. Circumstances having 
thrown suspicion upon the Senecas, the 
party soon directed their search among the 
villages of that tribe. 

Their inquiries were prosecuted in various 
directions, and always with great caution, 
for all the tribes of the Iroquois, or, as 
they pompously called themselves, the Five 
Nations, being allies of Great Britain, were 
inveterate in their hostility toward the 
Americans. Thus some time elapsed be- 
fore the father with his assistants reached 
the village of the Big White Man. 

Negotiations for the ransom of the cap- 
tives were immediately begun and in the 
case of Mrs. Lytle and the younger child 
easily carried into effect. But no offers, no 
entreaties, no promises could procure the 
release of little Eleanor, the adopted child 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 1 25 

of the tribe. No, the chief said, she was 
his sister; he had taken her to supply the 
place of his brother who was killed by the 
enemy; she was dear to him, and he would 
not part with her. 

Finding every effort to shake this reso- 
lution unavailing, the father was compelled 
to take his sorrowful departure with the 
loved ones he had had the good fortune 
to recover. 

We will not attempt to depict the grief 
of parents thus compelled to give up a dar- 
ling child, leaving her in the hands of 
savages whom until now they had had too 
much reason to regard as merciless. But 
there was no alternative; so commending 
her to the care of their heavenly Father, 
and cheered by the manifest tenderness 
with which she had thus far been treated, 
they set out on their melancholy journey 
homeward, trusting that some future effort 
for her recovery would be more effectual. 

Having placed his family in safety in 
Pittsburgh, Mr. Lytle, still assisted by the 
commandant and the Indian Agent, under- 
took an expedition to the frontier to the 



126 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

residence of the British Agent, Colonel 
Johnson. His account of the case warmly 
interested that benevolent officer, who 
promised to spare no exertion in his behalf. 
This promise was religiously fulfilled. As 
soon as the opening of spring permitted, 
Colonel Johnson went in person to the vil- 
lage of the Big White Man, and offered the 
chief many splendid presents of guns and 
horses; but he was inexorable. 

Time rolled on, and every year the hope 
of recovering the little captive became 
more faint. She, in the meantime, con- 
tinued to wind herself more and more 
closely around the heart of her Indian 
brother. Nothing could exceed the con- 
sideration and affection with which she 
was treated, not only by him, but by his 
mother, the Old Queen. All their brooches 
and wampum were employed in the decora- 
tion of her person. The chief seat and the 
most delicate viands were invariably re- 
served for her, and no efforts were spared 
to promote her happiness and banish from 
her mind memories of her former home 
and kindred. 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I2J 

Thus, though she had beheld the depar- 
ture of her parents and her dear little brother 
with a feeling amounting almost to despair, 
and had for a long while resisted every 
attempt at consolation, time at length, as 
it ever does, brought its soothing balm, and 
she grew contented and happy. 

From her activity and forcefulness, char- 
acteristics for which she was remarkable to 
the end of her life, she was given the name, 
"The Ship under Full Sail." 

The only drawback to the happiness of 
the little prisoner, aside from her longing 
for her own dear home, was the enmity of 
the wife of the Big White Man. This 
woman, from the day of Eleanor's arrival 
at the village and her adoption as a sister 
into the family, had conceived for the child 
the greatest animosity, which she at first had 
the prudence to conceal from her husband. 

It was perhaps natural that a wife should 
give way to some feeling of jealousy at 
seeing her place in the heart of her 
husband usurped by the child of their 
enemy, the American. But these feelings 
were aggravated by a bad and vindictive 



128 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

temper, as well as by the indifference with 
which her husband listened to her com- 
plaints and murmurings. 

As the woman had no children of her 
own to engage her attention, her mind was 
the more easily engrossed and inflamed by 
her fancied wrongs, and the devising of 
means' for their redress. An apparent oppor- 
tunity for revenge was not long wanting. 

During the absence of the Big White 
Man upon some war party or hunting 
excursion, little Eleanor was taken ill with 
fever and ague. She was nursed with 
the utmost tenderness by the Old Queen; 
and the wife of the chief, to lull suspicion, 
was likewise unwearied in her attentions to 
the little favorite. 

One afternoon while the Old Queen 
was absent for a short time, her daughter- 
in-law entered the lodge with a bowl of 
something she had prepared, and, stooping 
down to the mat on which the child lay, 
said, in an affectionate tone, "Drink, my 
sister. I have brought you that which 
will drive this fever far from you. " 

On raising her head to reply, the little 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I2Q 

girl saw a pair of eyes peeping through a 
crevice in the lodge, fixed upon her with a 
peculiar and significant expression. With 
the quick perception due partly to instinct 
and partly to her intercourse with the red 
people, she replied faintly, "Set it down, 
my sister. When this fit of the fever has 
passed, I will drink your medicine.' 

The squaw, too cautious to importune, 
busied herself about the lodge for a short 
time; then withdrew to another near at 
hand. Meantime the bright eyes continued 
to peer through the opening until they had 
watched the object of their gaze fairly out 
of sight. Then a low voice, the voice 
of a young friend and playfellow, spoke: 
"Do not drink that which your brother's 
wife has brought you. She hates you, and 
is only waiting an opportunity to rid her- 
self of you. I have watched her all the 
morning, and have seen her gathering the 
most deadly roots and herbs. I knew for 
whom they were intended, and came hither 
to warn you." 

"Take the bowl," said the little invalid, 
"and carry it to my mother's lodge. ,: 

9 



130 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

This was accordingly done. The con- 
tents of the bowl were found to consist 
principally of a decoction of the root of 
the May-apple, the most deadly poison 
known among the Indians. 

It is not in the power of language to 
describe the indignation that pervaded the 
little community when this discovery was 
made known. The squaws ran to and fro, 
as is their custom when excited, each vying 
with the other in heaping invectives upon 
the culprit. For the present, however, no 
further punishment was inflicted upon her, 
and, the first burst of rage over, she was 
treated with silent abhorrence. 

The little patient was removed to the 
lodge of the Old Queen and strictly guarded, 
while her enemy was left to wander in 
silence and solitude about the fields and 
woods, until the return of her husband 
should determine her punishment. 

In a few days, the excursion being over, 
the Big White Man and his party returned 
to the village. Contrary to the custom of 
savages, he did not, in his first passion at 
learning the attempt on the life of his 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 131 

little sister, take summary vengeance on 
the offender. Instead, he contented himself 
with banishing the squaw from his lodge, 
never to return, and in condemning her to 
hoe corn in a distant part of the large 
field or inclosure which served the whole 
community for a garden. 

Although thereafter she would still show 
her vindictiveness toward the little girl 
by striking at her with her hoe, or by some 
other spiteful action whenever, by chance, 
Eleanor and her companions wandered 
into that vicinity, yet she was either too 
well watched or stood too much in awe of 
her former husband to repeat the attempt 
upon his sister's life. 

Four years had now elapsed since the 
capture of little Nelly. Her heart was by 
nature warm and affectionate, and the 
unbounded tenderness of those among whom 
she dwelt called forth in her a corresponding 
feeling. She regarded the chief and his 
mother with love and reverence, and had so 
completely acquired their language and 
customs as almost to have forgotten her own. 

So identified had she become with the 



132 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

tribe that the remembrance of her home 
and family had nearly faded from her 
mind — all but the memory of her mother, 
her mother, whom she had loved with a 
strength of affection natural to her warm 
and ardent disposition, and to whom her 
heart still clung with a fondness that no 
time or change could destroy. 

The peace of 1783 between Great Brit- 
ain and the United States was now effected, 
in consequence of which there was a general 
pacification of the Indian tribes, and fresh 
hopes were aroused in the bosoms of Mr. 
and Mrs. Lytle. 

They removed with their family to Fort 
Niagara, near which, on the American 
side, was the Great Council Fire of the 
Senecas. Colonel Johnson again readily 
undertook negotiations with the chief in 
their behalf, and, in order to lose no chance 
of success, he again proceeded in person 
to the village of the Big White Man. 

His visit was most opportune. He arrived 
among the Senecas during the Feast of 
the Green Corn. This observance, which 
corresponds so strikingly with the Jewish 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I33 

Feast of Tabernacles that, together with 
other customs, it has led many to believe 
the Indian nations the descendants of 
the lost ten tribes of Israel, made it a 
season of general joy and festivity. All 
occupations were suspended to give place 
to social enjoyment in the open air or in 
arbors formed of the green branches of 
the trees. Every one appeared in gala 
dress. That of the little adopted child 
consisted of a petticoat of blue broadcloth, 
bordered with gay-colored ribbons, and a 
sack or upper garment of black silk, orna- 
mented with three rows of silver brooches, 
the center ones from the throat to the hem 
being large, while those from the shoulders 
down were as small as a shilling piece 
and as closely set as possible. Around her 
neck were innumerable strings of white 
and purple wampum — an Indian ornament 
manufactured from the inner surface of 
the mussel shell. Her hair was clubbed 
behind and loaded with beads of various 
colors, while leggings of scarlet cloth and 
moccasins of deerskin embroidered with 
porcupine quills completed her costume. 



134 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

Colonel Johnson was received with all 
the consideration due his position and the 
long friendship that existed between him 
and the tribe. 

Observing that the hilarity of the festival 
had warmed and opened all hearts, the Colonel 
took occasion in an interview with the chief to 
expatiate upon the parental affection which 
had led the father and mother of little 
Eleanor to give up friends and home and 
come hundreds of miles, in the single hope 
of looking upon their child and embracingher. 
The heart of the chief softened as he listened 
to this recital, and he was induced to promise 
that he would attend the Grand Council soon 
to be held at Fort Niagara, on the British 
side of the river, and bring his little sister 
with him. 

He exacted a promise from Colonel 
Johnson, however, that not only should no 
effort be made to reclaim the child, but that 
even no proposition to part with her should 
be made to him. 

The time at length arrived when, her 
heart bounding with joy, little Nelly was 
placed on horseback to accompany her 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I 35 

Indian brother to the Great Council of the 
Senecas. She had promised him that she 
would never leave him without his per- 
mission, and he relied confidently on her 
word. 

How anxiously the hearts of the parents 
beat with alternate hope and fear as the 
chiefs and warriors arrived in successive 
bands to meet their Father, the agent, at the 
Council Fire! The officers of the fort had 
kindly given them quarters for the time 
being, and the ladies, whose sympathies 
were strongly excited, had accompanied the 
mother to the place of council and joined 
in her longing watch for the first appearance 
of the band from the Allegheny River. 

At length the Indians were discerned 
emerging from the forest on the opposite 
or American side. Boats were sent by 
the commanding officer to bring the chief 
and his party across. The father and 
mother, attended by all the officers and 
ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting 
their approach. They had seen at a glance 
that the Indians had the little captive with 
them. 



I36 FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE 

As he was about to enter the boat, the chief 
said to some of his young men, "Stand here 
with the horses and wait until I return. ,: 

He was told that the horses would be 
ferried across and taken care of. 

"No," said he; "let them wait." 

He held little Eleanor by the hand until the 
river was crossed, until the boat touched 
the bank, until the child sprang forward 
into the arms of the mother from whom 
she had so long been separated. 

Witnessing that outburst of affection, the 
chief could resist no longer. 

"She shall go," said he. "The mother 
must have her child again. I will go back 
alone." 

With one silent gesture of farewell he 
turned and stepped on board the boat. No 
arguments or entreaties could induce him 
to remain at the council. Reaching the 
other side of the Niagara, he mounted his 
horse, and with his young men was soon 
lost in the depths of the forest. 

After a few weeks' sojourn at Niagara, 
Mr. Lytle, dreading lest the resolution of 
the Big White Man should be shaken, and 



FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE I37 

he should once more be deprived of his 
child, determined again to change his place 
of abode. Accordingly, he took the first 
opportunity of crossing Lake Erie with his 
family, and settled in the neighborhood of 
Detroit, where he afterwards continued to 
reside. 

Little Nelly saw her friend the chief no 
more. But she never forgot him. To the 
day of her death she remembered with 
tenderness and gratitude her brother the 
Big White Man, and her friends and play- 
fellows among the Senecas. 



18 1912 



